Rock n' Roll Life
by Donner Dumott Schunard
Summary: This is way AU. Mark, Roger, and Angel are in a band called Subatomic Treehuggers. Each has an issue of some sort. Will they be able to overcome their addictions and disorders to become the greatest band ever?
1. Changes

Well, here's my newest fic. It's basically a little monster that's been in my brain since I saw RENT because... well... I'm a rock chick. I like musicals... like _Rocky Horror_ and _Tim Burton's The Nightmare Before Christmas_. I barely know anything about Broadway. So I decided to take RENT and put it in my own element. Enjoy.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own RENT, Myspace, David Bowie, Green Day, Interscope or anything mentioned in here for the most part.

**Rock n' Roll Life**

**By Donna**

**Chapter One: Changes (David Bowie)**

_**Hey! Wanna be in a band!**_

_If you are a drummer between the age of eighteen to twenty-five, we are looking for you! Our band, Subatomic Treehuggers, is signed to Interscope Records and we are need of a new drummer._

_Please come to W High School this Saturday and show your stuff 1:30-3:00. May the best drummer win._

_Please call Mark Cohen or Roger Davis at XXX-XXX-XXXX or YYY-YYY-YYYY_

Roger slammed his combat boots on the top of the chair in front of him. He groaned. "Can you _believe _this, Collins!"

Collins sighed. "I know... I know... you get signed to a major record company and your drummer leaves. Life sucks. Have a cookie."

Roger leaned back and screamed, "Will the next person go on the stage!" He was at the last person and he could only hope for the best.

A young man walked onto the stage. He whispered, "Uhm... hello."

Roger couldn't decide if he wanted to laugh or cry. This kid looked twelve and he wore nothing out of the ordinary. No piercings aside from the hoops in his ears. No real... style at all. He was boring, to say the least.

"Name?" Collins asked.

"Ang--"

"Hey! Sorry! I hadda piss!" Mark yelled, swinging next to Roger. He pushed his blonde bangs from his face. "Hey, kid!"

"What's your name again?" Roger asked, rubbing his temples. His eyes darted at Mark, snarling, "Dear God, please tell me you cleaned your hands."

Mark grinned and turned to the drummer-in-waiting. The young man said, "My name's Angel Dumott-Schunard."

"Okay. Go to the drums and show us your stuff," Collins instructed.

Angel sat at the drumset and took a deep breath. He grabbed the worn drumsticks and began to play a very fast, sharp rock beat. He slammed the cymbals and banged the snares flawlessly.

"He's really good!" Collins exclaimed, rubbing Roger's elbow.

"I like him!" Mark added, "He's so... corruptable."

Angel stopped, looking up at them nervously.

Roger stood up, clapping. "Well done, Angie."

"Thank you," Angel murmured, giving a little bow.

Roger walked out of the seats in the school auditorium and toward the stage. "How old are you?"

"I'm eighteen. I just graduated high school."

"Okay. What did you plan on doing?"

"...I dunno... community college?"

"Okay. Can you handle the rock star life?"

"If you mean, get drunk off your ass during the day and play rock godd– god by night, I can do it. I'll do _anything_ to be in this band. I just want to play."

"I like this kid," Mark said.

"Take him," Collins demanded.

"Angel, we took a vote. Three outta three. Welcome to the band!"

Angel smiled. He jumped up the stage and hugged them. "You won't be sorry!"

Mark laughed. "Let's get the girls and go out! I'll pay!"

-------------------------------------------

Angel watched nervously. He knew all about the Subatomic Treehuggers. They came from New York and he even saw them preform once or twice. He thought they were amazing. East Coast's call to Green Day, or any of that California punk. They were a trio to be feared and loved all the same. First was Roger Davis, pretty boy frontman. He had long blonde locks and dressed in his trusty leather jacket, jeans, and boots constantly. His only loves were his guitar and his girlfriend, both of which named April. Then there was his bassist, the emotional part of the band, Mark Cohen. To most kids, Mark was just another emo/mod/indie kid. He wore his hair floppy, his glasses black and thick, and his scarf blue and white. He also took care of a lot of messages on the official message board. Angel's heart skipped a beat a few times when Mark replied to his messages. They did have a drummer... but who cared about the drummer now!

The drummer was _him_!

"You know our music?" Roger asked, passing a beer to Angel.

Angel looked at the beer menacingly. He didn't drink much, but just enough to have a fake ID. "Yeah! I'm a huge fan! I added you to my Myspace, I bought an old copy of _Jilly's Lil EP_, _F-A-K-E_, and _Starstuck on Moonshine_."

"Wow! That's determination!" Roger exclaimed.

"Yeah!" Angel said, nodding, "I didn't want you guys to fall apart, so I decided to go for it and try out!"

Collins laughed. "I like you, Ang."

Angel grinned. Tom Collins, the manager, site maintainer, merch king. He was a genius, plain and simple. All Angel could said was, "Thank you."

"You look familiar," Collins added.

"You probably saw me on Myspace," Angel said. He paled.

"I think I did," was all Collins could say to him. He leaned over to Roger and said, "We need to talk about something."

Roger nodded. "Sure, sure. Now, Ang! What's your favorite tune?"

"We're here!" yelled a tall woman with a darker woman in tow.

"Oh! Angel! Meet Maureen and Joanne!" Mark introduced.

Collins yanked Roger to the men's room._ "_Roger," he said, "Lil' Angie's hidin' something."  
"What?" Roger asked, "Is he really fifteen? That's okay."

"Not that!" Collins argued, "He's a... well... the picture's worth a thousand words."

He sat on the ground, pulling his laptop from his bag. Roger groaned, sitting next to him on the extremely dirty floor. 

"Yes! Wifi hotspot," Colins cheered as he opened up the laptop. "Let's go onto Myspace."

"**Myspace**!" Roger gasped.

"Yes." Collins went to Subatomic Treehugger's page and went through their friends page. He clicked on someone named "Angie D." The page opened, David Bowie's voice splashing into their ears. A pretty girl graced the front of the page. Roger smiled. She looked cute, her head tilted back, a spider pin caught in her bobbed black hair. She wore a black nurse-from-hell dress with zebra tights and heels. After he studied the picture more, he realized she was familiar and a guy.

"Userpictures," Collins said, "She switched it."

He clicked around and found more of her userpictures. One of which, Roger noticed, was with a pretty brunette he assumed was named "Meems." The last one was most certainly their new drummer, Angel, with Aladdin Sane-inspired make-up.

Roger stretched. Definitly the same person on the front of the page. "So... Angel's a queen?"

"Yep," Collins said, "I mean, I'm cool with it. But it's your call."

Roger smirked. "This is so cool. Don't you see? Angel's so determined to be in the band he'd sacrifice his lifestyle for it! He's prefect!"

"And... will you... ask him about the whole dress-up thing?" Collins asked.

"I'm not. I'm not smart in the whole 'gay' department," he put up air quotes for emphasis, "but I think once he's comfortable with us and everything, he'll tell us. For now, let's just be happy, Tommy-boy! We're gonna be the best band _ever_! Now go back to Angie's homepage! You know how much I love 'Changes!'"

-------------------------------------------------------------

Aaaaand... that's all I got.


	2. You're My Best Friend

1Well... this fic definitely got a lot of mail... I'm happy because I wasn't going to post this.

You'll be happy... I'm taking a break on the speedrent entries and working on my own free-time fics more... because after awhile those kill you! And I hate staying up all night thinking, "Holy shit... I messed up that entry... I could have done this... I could have done that..." so I'm back to this. Enjoy.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own RENT, David Bowie, Frank N. Futer, ect, ect...

**Rock n' Roll Life**

**By Donna**

**Chapter Two: You're My Best Friend (Queen)**

"So, because you're Mister Drummer Boy you're thinking of giving up _drag_?" Mimi asked as she thumbed through some studded belts. "But... but you're Angel! You're not allowed to!"

"Mimi, this is the best thing to happen to me... I'm not going to lose it just because I wear a dress."

By now, Mimi and Angel were pretty well-known at the neighborhood Hot Topic. They were also the most chatty employees in the whole store. For whatever reason, the manager took a liking to htem and they let them have the same shifts. Angel always made a point to not dress in drag, but by now, everyone knew. This left their discussions nothing to be shocked about.

"You're in a band?" asked Solana, the manager, "Awesome!"

"Yeah," Angel said, fixing some shirts.

"What's their name?"

"Subatomic Treehuggers."

"No way! I thought it was just ironic when they posted about having a new drummer named Angel! I didn't know it was you! Wow!"

"Now I don't know if I should tell them about the drag bit," Angel mumbled.

"It shouldn't be an issue!" Mimi argued. She dropped some Tim Burton merchandise. "Shit. Look, Angel, you're... you! They like you a lot! Don't try and be something that isn't... er... you!"

"I agree," Solana added, "And they seem like a bunch of nice guys. That Mark is flaming anyway. I say show up in practice in drag, and say, 'Take me or leave me!'"

"Okay," Angel said, grabbing his jacket. "Not today. I gotta go right after work for practice. It's fucking freezing in here..." He noticed that it had the upside-down pink triangle1 on it and gulped. "Ahh... no! If I show up with this on..."

Mimi groaned. She handed him a Clash patch and safety pins. "This is going to damage your psyche and then what? They'll have a drummer in the nuthouse. Trust me, it's worse than having a drag queen for a drummer."

"Oh, just shut up!" Angel snapped, pinning on The Clash over his very small use of pride.

---------------------------------------------------

Roger and Mark were tuning up when Angel came in. Roger looked up, smiling. "Hey, Angie. Come on!"

Angel pulled his drumsticks from his back pocket. "I'm sorry... I came from work and..."

"No worries," Mark said, grinning, "Just breathe!"

Angel nodded, sitting at the set.

Roger began to chat. "So... I was walkin' around with Collins yesterday and we had a rabid fangirl attack!"

"No way!" Mark exclaimed, alguhing.

"They were all, 'Oh-em-gee! Treehuggers!' and shit... they love me."

Angel rolled on the snare.

"You need to chill with us, Ang!" Roger added, "We need some bonding... and you're single, right?"

"Yeah," Angel mumbled.

"We need to get you out there! And we seriously need to know a little about you!"

"There's not much to say," Angel mumbled.

"Sure there is!" Roger yelled, "Everyone has something! Like, what's your favorite band?"

"Oh... uhm... there's a lot... Queen... The Doors... Green Day... Fall Out Boy... I like David Bowie... he's not really a band... T. Rex... I love glam..."

"They're awesome!" Mark added, "All of them. You're into classic rock?"

"Yeah. I work at a Hot Topic and there's a lot of that scenester stuff... and I'm not really big on it. That's why I like you guys. You use a lot of old sound... but your approach makes it modern."

"Can we get discounts?" Mark joked.

Angel laughed. "I can see what I can do."

"See? Now we know that you're into glam and you work at Hot Topic! Now we can rock out!" Roger yelled, shaking his head and laughing. "Come on!"

They worked on some older songs and then played with Roger's newest song. After two rather fast hours, Roger's girlfriend, April, came in. April was a pretty girl, red hair, pale skin, but it was also obvious that she was flirting with drugs. Her eyes were red and her arms had tracks. On the other hand, she was generous, holding a tray of coffee for everyone. She screamed over the loud music, "Hey! Break!"

She passe the coffee to Mark and Roger, and then to Angel. "I don't know how you like your coffee, but I got some half n' half and sugar. Here ya go."

Angel took it, smiling. "Thank you so much, April!" He popped off the top, blew at the coffee, and took a gulp.

"Sorry I couldn't meet up with you to celebrate the new drummer," April added, "I had some stuff to do."

Mark rolled his eyes.

April ignored Mark. "You're a real cute guy. Your name is Angel, right?"

"Yeah," Angel said, sipping his coffee.

April walked to Roger and kissed him. "Hi, baby."

Angel shook his head. There was a crooked neon sign over his head, flashing, "LOSER, SINGLE, QUEER" repetitively.

Mark sat on the ground next to Angel, milking his coffee. "What's a matter? You look sad."

"Don't worry about it, Mark," Angel mumbled.

"What is it?" Mark asked.

"Just... life. It's not really... fair."

"Oh, hell no. It's not. What's currently pissing you off about it?"

Angel sighed. "You're going to find it childish. But I'm single."

"Aw... you don't need to worry about that!" Mark said, laughing. He slapped Angel's shoulder. "You're a great guy! You're sweet and you've got those really big eyes... girls are turned on by that. They'll come."

"Mark, I haven't had a real date since I was a sophomore. Just... fucks. It's not fun anymore. I want a relationship."

"Everyone does, Ang. I don't know why anyone wouldn't give you a chance! Unless you into, like, bondage and stuff... you know, if you are, I know some chicks into that stuff you'd like."

"No! It's not that!" Angel squealed, rubbing his face.

"Then what's wrong?"

Angel shook his head. "It's complicated, Mark... you wouldn't understand..."

"I got it!"

"...What?"

"You have a short wang! That's it! You're afraid they'll run away! Well, let me tell you, if you say that you're in a band..."

Angel's eyes bulged. "No! Mark! Not everyone likes..." Angel stopped himself. _Just tell him, Ang. He'll find out eventually. _Angel gulped and said, "I'm gay."

Mark gasped. "Are you serious! I didn't know! Oh God! I'm so sorry I said all that! Ah! I didn't know!"

"Seriously?"

"No! I had no idea! I'm cool with it."

"Seriously?" Angel smiled.

"Seriously. My girlfriend, Maureen, she's in theater, and she hangs out with gay guys all the time, and I do, too. You didn't need to make it some big secret! Hell, maybe I can hel p you meet some people! Come here!"

Mark pulled him into a big hug. "When are you going to pass this by Roger?"

"I dunno," Angel mumbled, leaning his chin on Mark's shoulder. "I figured I'd tell him eventually... I mean... I don't know..."

"I understand that you're a little scared. Roger is quite manly-looking. But I think he'll be fine. Don't worry, if he does do something unexpected, I'll protect ya."

Angel pulled away from Mark and rubbed his eyes. "Thank you so much, Mark!"

"Hey, loverboys!" Roger yelled, "April and I are leaving! See ya!"

Mark groaned. "Let's go do something else. Can we go to your place?"

Angel paled. "M-my place?"

"Yeah! What's wrong?"

"Well... it's..."

"Angel, don't worry!" Mark patted his shoulder, "If you have any rainbow flags or drag films lying around, I'm not going to blow up!"

Angel laughed nervously. "Alright." So much for keeping his lifestyle a secret.

Angel drove them both to his apartment. "I have a roommate," Angel said, "Mimi. Don't mind her."

"You don't live with your parents?" Mark asked.

"Me? No. They kicked me out after I graduated," Angel mumbled, "They hated my guts. I'm the oldest, so I was the one they tested on and failed... so they just devote time to my little sister."

"Oh... poor guy. Well, this place looks nice. You did good."

"Thanks. I have to admit, I wish they kicked me out sooner."

Mark laughed as they walked up the staircase to Angel's apartment. "My mom was pissed when I moved out and said I was going to be in a band. So she calls me, like, everyday. She can be your replacement mom."

Angel giggled. "I'd like that, Mark. Thanks."

They walked inside. Mark smiled. "I like this place." It had glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to purple walls, sparkling lamps, images of Frank N. Futer, David Bowie, and reproductions of Andy Warhol paintings hanging everywhere, and platform boots turned into flowerpots on the coffeetable.

"Thanks," Angel said, hanging up his jacket. He unpinned The Clash patch and threw it on the coffeetable. Mark smirked.

Mimi walked in wearing only a big shirt. "Hello?"

"Hi, Mimi! This is Mark, my bandmate. Mark, this is my roommate, Mimi!"

Mark shook her hand. "Hi, Mimi."

Mimi looked at Angel and then back to Mark. "Uhm... you know... we're not doing each other, for the record."

"I know that," Mark said, "You're pretty and all, but I do believe you are a girl."

"Yep," Mimi said, giggling, "I love her, but not enough to do something like that."

Mark took a double-take at Angel. "Her?"

Mimi cringed, then grinned evilly. "Silly me! I slipped!" She pushed Angel into the bathroom, yelling, "Angel! Care to explain?"

Angel stumbled in, screaming, "I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!" and shutting the door.

"Uhm... what's going on?" Mark asked.

"You'll see," Mimi said.

Mark crossed his arms, smirking. This was getting more and more interesting. He leaned to the door and said, "Angie... if you don't want to..."

"No! It's okay! You should know!" Angel choked.

"Just... you know... I'm not going to hurt you or nothing..."

"I know that."

After a few minutes, the door opened. Angel closed his eyes...

Mark took a look. Angel was wearing a short, pinstriped dress with pinstripes and a black, bobbed wig. His eyelids were smothered in charcoal and Mark laughed. He was a she. "That's it?"

Angel nodded, her eyes still shut. "Yeah. I... I like to wear dresses."

Mark cracked up. "That's all? I thought you had a real issue, like mutilation or something! This is okay. You actually look good as a girl. And more comfortable for sure."

Angel looked up, opening her eyes. "Really?"

"Yeah! You were going to hide this just to get into the band?"

"Yeah."

"Why? You're a great drummer! Rockers aren't homophobes."

Angel shrugged.

Mimi snapped, "I told you."

"I got an idea," Mark said, "We're scheduling a photoshoot next week. Come as you are. Roger will get it."

Angel nodded. "Thank you so much, Mark..." She gave him a big hug and sighed. She never felt so relieved.

-----------------------------------------------------------

1-Am I the only one who noticed this? I was watching RENT on my computer and on Angel's black jacket is that little sign. I smirked. I didn't make the connection until I went to get dressed for gym and said, "HEY! THAT'S ON ANGEL'S JACKET!" when I saw the sign on the door.

**Songlist Thus far:**

"**Changes" by David Bowie**

"**You're My Best Friend" by Queen**

**Next Track...**

"**Come as You Are" by Nirvana**

Please review!


	3. Come as You Are

1I got chocolate, a bottle of water, "Rock n' Roll Life" to update, and a late opening. LIFE IS GOOD.

(This is to damnedimmortal because she is just too damn awesome for words 3)

**Rock n' Roll Life**

**By Donna**

**Chapter Three: Come as You Are (Nirvana)**

Angel stood at the door of the studio for the photoshoot. She sighed. She played with the wild pattern on her tights and pulled at her dress. This was it. Now or never.

Mark came from behind and gave her a big hug. "You ready?"

Angel nodded. "I guess so."

Mark smirked. "Come on, Angel. Have some confidence."

"I'm ready," she repeated, a little stronger. She didn't feel like having an emo kid trying to boost her self-esteem.

They linked arms and walked forward.

Meanwhile, Roger was listening to the photographer's scheme for the whole photoshoot. "Okay," he rambled, "You'll wear all black and they'll wear..."

Roger nodded, his eyes wandering around to the door. Where were Mark and Angel? Here he was at their first real photoshoot that wasn't some friend with a digital camera, and they were MIA.

He found Collins walking around with a coffee at hand. He pulled him over and asked, "What the hell?"

Collins took a sip from his coffee. "Look, man, if you wanted a coffee..."

"Not that! We're two Treehuggers short!"

"Maybe they're nervous. Angel always looks ready to puke in any situation anyway..."

Roger sighed, looking back to the door. The door opened and Mark came in, carting a brunette. Roger ran over and gasped. "Angel!"

Angel nodded. "Yeah... I'm... Angel. Uhm... oh God! I'm so sorry!"

Roger grinned like a Chesire Cat. "Hey, it's cool, Angie. Hell, it's about time."

"You knew!" Mark asked.

"Yeah, of course," Roger said. He laughed. "Angie D on Myspace?"

Angel blushed. "Yeah.. That's me."

Roger hugged her to prove a point. "You look good as a girl. Seriously."

"So you're not mad," Mark wanted to confirm.

"Nope. Not at all. As long as it doesn't impair your drumming, I'm okay."

"Told you," Mark teased Angel.

They passed by the photographer. The photographer gasped. "So... uhm..."

"Didn't you know my drummer likes dresses?" Roger asked.

The photographer shook his head slowly. "Uhm... no. But... we'll manage."

After some make-up and a wardrobe change, the photographer decided to use Angel's habits to his advantage. He made her pose in very sensual ways, leaning on Roger possessively and sitting in these very sexual poses. When she had separate shots, Mark and Roger watched in disbelief. Whatever it was that came with dressing like this gave Angel confidence and a very feminine air about her. She laid her head on her knees and closed her eyes in a pose and Roger could swear to God she was a girl.

Mark smiled. She'd make a great model.

When they were done, April stopped by. He sighed. She walked over and wrapped him close. "Hi, baby," she whispered, "I got some goodies at home with your name on it."

Roger looked at over at Mark and Angel. Mark looked at him in disgust and Angel stared vacantly in confusion. He looked back at April and gulped. Drugs or bandmates. Drugs or bandmates... drugs. He couldn't deny that he was addicted. Addicted to some failed drug to take away pain. All it was doing to him was causing it.

But he needed it.

Angel looked at Mark, confused.

"Do something, Angie," Mark pleaded.

Angel got up and yanked at Roger's sleeve. "Hey. You wanna come to my place? Mark's coming."

April's eyes widened. "Angel!"

"Yeah! Hi, honey!" Angel said, waving. "You're invited, too!"

April leaned on Roger. "Roger?"

"Well... we'll come later, Angie, okay?"

Angel nodded. "Okay. Oh, and Roger?"

"What?"

"Thank you."

She walked to Mark and sighed. Mark patted her shoulder and gave her a hug. "Hey, you did okay. Don't worry." He looked at Roger and April. "Don't do anything stupid."

Roger rolled his eyes as they went to their car and got inside it. When the motor started, April asked, "Did you know Angel was a... uhm... queen?"

"Yeah. A queen, Ape? That sounds a little harsh, don't you think?"

"You know what I mean."

"Why are you so pissed about that? Don't girls like gay guys?"

"No! I mean!"

"You're just jealous that she has nice legs."

"Ew... you were looking!" April looked almost tramatized.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding..." he slapped her thigh. "I love your legs."

They came to their apartment. Roger opened the door for her. "You're calling her a girl?" April asked.

"Yeah. I never really thought it was much of an issue."

"Oh... okay."

Roger sighed. "Look, April, I'd never date someone in the band. I'm with you. I named my _guitar_ after you for God's sake!"

"I know... just... look out for Mark."

"Why?"

"...Mark is awfully close with Angel."

"They hugged."

"Yeah."

Roger laughed. "Mark wouldn't cheat on Maureen." He learned long ago not to box someone as gay or straight, but to him that wasn't the true issue. He knew if someone would cheat or not. And Mark wouldn't.

"But Maureen would," April whispered.

Roger gasped. "Did she!"

April put her finger on his lips. "Don't say anything. But I saw her a few days ago with Joanne... sucking face. You guys were at a practice. I'm sorry."

Roger didn't say a word as they went to the apartment and found April's stash. They tied their arms, shot up, and forgot about the drama surrounding the other two Treehuggers, who were alone in another apartment not-too far away.

---------------------------------------------------------

"Where's Roger?" Angel asked, eyeing the clock.

"God only knows," Mark mumbled, "What a disastrous couple. Two junkies. Who the hell thought of that one?"

"Oh, come on Mark," Angel whispered as she walked up to the meal she was preparing. "No every couple is Sid and Nancy, you know."

"Huh," Mark snapped, "You have no idea, Angie. You have _no _ idea."

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I hope you liked this chapter! Next chapter will be about their first gig together!

**Previous Tracks:**

**Changes, David Bowie**

**You're My Best Friend, Queen**

**Come as You Are, Nirvana **

**Next track:**

**First Date, Blink-182**


	4. First Date

1Thank you damnedimmortal, once again, for reminding me that I have to update this...

REJOICE, Collins fangirls! Collins will begin to play a bigger role now!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own RENT

**Rock n' Roll Life**

**By Donna**

**Chapter Four: First Date (Blink-182)**

"Ang, can you help us with the make-up?" Mark asked.

Angel yelled a, "Yeah!" and polished her lips. She ran to Mark and Roger, who were tying a tie and putting on a shirt respectively.

"Heart?" Mark asked, poking the sticker under Angel's eye.

Angel nodded. "Yeah... I was watching that Disney version of _Alice in Wonderland_ with Mimi and I was inspired."

"Explains the red wig and the black lips. You look like a thinner Queen of Hearts."

Angel punched him lightly. "Okay. What do you want me to do to you?"

"Just put on some eyeliner, please? I can't do it for my life."

Angel nodded, taking a pencil. Roger sat next to Mark and waited his turn.

Angel put the pencil down and said, "What do you think?"

Mark checked himself out in a mirror and said, "Thanks so much, Ang!"

"My turn!" Roger yelled, pulling Angel to his direction. Angel giggled as she straightened his hair a final time and put some eyeliner on his eyes.

It was about to be their first show together and they wanted to look their best. Angel's skin was bleached, Mark went through half a bottle of hair gel trying to get a good look, and Roger continuously changed his shirt. They hadn't posted any pictures anywhere of the new lineup and they weren't sure how the fans would take the arrival of the new drummer.

Collins opened the door and said, "You guys alive?"

All three looked up and said, "We're okay!"

"Good. You're on in two minutes." Collins gave his beanie a good tug, making sure that their bandname was still visible.

"No! Already!" Roger yelled.

Well, in two (and a half!) minutes, Roger led Mark and Angel onto the stage. It was a small venue called The Random Woman that was in a more suburban part of New York. Young kids loved it because of the atmosphere and the fact they could get in, unlike CBGB's.

Some kids slammed the stage, staring at the band members.

Angel saw Mimi. Mimi screamed, "That's my baby!" as she took to the drums.

Roger grinned in a cocky manner and grabbed the mic. He put it toward his lips and put his guitar strap on. "Hey, bitches. We're the Subatomic Treehuggers."

Everyone screamed.

Roger laughed. "I'm Roger Davis, your asshole frontman."

Angel drumrolled.

"The man on the bass in the girl's pants is Mark Cohen!"

Mark put up the rock-on sign, fixing his strap.

"And now, the newest Treehugger, the girl next door you wanna fuck _so _bad, everyone, give a warm welcome to Miss Angel Dumott-Schunard!"

Angel bowed her head, blushing. This was borderline embarrassing. But the kids cheered nonetheless.

Roger screamed, "One! Two! Three! Four!" and they slammed through their opening number, "Birds are for Powerlines as Barbed Wires are to Your Heart." Everyone began to move and mosh and screamed with them to "She's a Riot" and "Die, Die, Deity." They even played some new songs that went over well with the crowd.

After the show they went backstage, buzzed. "How are ya, Angie?" Roger asked, putting his arm around her shoulder.

Angel grinned, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead. "I'm... I'm great! That was awesome!"

"Well, it's time to meet your adoring fans," Roger gushed, letting them clean up a little before going outside.

They walked to the parking lot and some kids ran over, screaming, "Hey! Hi! It's Roger-fucking-Davis!"

Then there were the token, "MARK COHEN! I LOVE YOU!" girls and some people running over and saying, "You're... Angel... what, again?"

Angel was flattered, especially when they asked for a picture with her. There were a few that thought they were holier than thou, but Angel knew better than to pick a fight with them. Then came some negative comments.

"You're no Benny!" a scrawny boy with a bad dye-job yelled, "You're just some fag in a dress!"

"Hey! Hey!" Mark yelled.

The kid spat in Angel's face. Angel was mildly disgusted, but kept her composure.

"What was that for!" someone screamed, "You fucking asshole!"

The kid yelled, "You're not foolin' no one! Get away!"

"Leave her alone!" a group of girls screamed, "She's awesome! She can hold a beat! Fuckin' prick..."

"She's _better _than Benny!" someone screamed.

"Yeah!" a big group of people yelled, "Better than Benny!"

The crowd began to move and Collins came in. "Guys, come on, I think we should..."

The scrawny kid that started the whole mess came back. He grabbed a fistful of Angel's skirt and shoved his hand up.

"Get the fuck out of there!" Mark yelled, shoving him.

Angel glowered. That was the last straw. She pushed Mark back, raised her fist, and punched the guy in the face. The guy gasped, touching his lip. Blood welcomed his vision.

Everyone began to cheer.

"Angel!" Roger yelled, pulling his bandmates out of the mess of people, Collins leading.

Someone screamed, "It's a fighter fairy! Sweet!"

They left for their van, people chanting, "Fighter fairy! Fighter fairy!" the whole way out.

-----------------------------------------------------------

**NYBand Forums**

_**Subject: Subatomic Treehuggers**_

**megxlxmanixc:** Okay. Everyone noes bout subatomic treehuggers. There this ny alt band with roger davis. Well, there drummer, benny coffin, quit, right? I dunno why, some bs about artistic diffs. Anyway, they got a new drummer, angel dumott-schunard. He's a complete and total no-name. Not from any bands. Anyways, we went to their show and we were in for it.

The new guy's a drag queen! Me and my crew were all, "is that a girl?" and then we noticed she had an adam's apple! We were a little scared. But he wasnt bad at all. Solid. Tuff, too. She looked at this SOB that gave her shit and PUNCHED HIM OUT!11111111 I was like, "holy shit." He's really good, though. And I was glad he kicked that pricks ass. But its still weird I mean, what if theyre all hiding something?

What do you guys think of angel?

**Chrissy!AtTheDisco:** That was i whack /I . A drag queen! I used to like SAT... but now I'm not so sure.

**666999Kitti:** I don't see what the big deal is. He's a good drummer and he's just as nice a person. He knows he's not like Benny and he just wants to play. Leave him alone o

**DxC: **Agreed. She just wants to have a good time, and when someone pretty much violated her, she fought back. I'm proud of her.

**Jerkboybay:** she's a bitch

**666999Kitti:** I disagree. If you were being harassed by someone who was, oh, feeling you up, you'd punch someone, too.

**KillxSmile: **SAT sucks. They're weird and dumb.

**Diediedarlin:** FIGHIN FAREY ROXS MI SOXS/font

---------------------------------------------------------

Mimi giggled, moving a stack of t-shirts to the clearance rack. "I can't believe you punched him!"

"He molested me!" was Angel's defense.

"Some people looked up from shopping.

"Angel! Jesus!" Solana yelled, laughing.

Angel blushed, playing with the pins on his lanyard. He felt odd, wearing a too-large Bowie shirt and a pair of big, chained, pants. As perverted as it sounded, he missed his legs touching continuously. He still didn't want to let his female persona fully take over just yet. He was, as far as he could tell, still the boy who had no real goal in life.

"Those pants are so unflattering on you," Collins teased.

Angel spun around. "Collins? Hi!" he jumped up and hugged him.

"Hi, Collins!" Mimi said, waving.

"Hi, Mimi! Hey... Ang... help me out?" Collins asked.

"What do you want?"

"I'm looking for something for a friend of mine."

"Oh... okay! Guy or girl?"

"A gorgeous girl. She's skinny, tall, and has long legs. I want a dress that'll make her look as great as I think she is."

"That's sweet! Uhm... is she kinda curvy? There's a nice dress right..."

"...She's kinda flat."

"Oh! Okay... Lemme show you this dress! I really want it..."

Angel grabbed a stepstool. Collins ran over, his hands brushing against Angel's arms. They blushed as Angel reached for a rather interesting dress. It was composed of ribbons, mesh, and silvery material. "Is this too much?"

"Nope. It's perfect."

"Okay! I'll ring you up!"

They went to the counter. Mimi and Solana inched away from them. Angel rang him up and put the dress into wrapping. He gave it to Collins, his cheeks tinged pink. "H-here."

Collins took the dress and quickly handed it back. "Here ya go, baby!"

Angel looked at the bag, confused. "I don't follow you."

Mimi and Solana began to crack up. "He's been flirting with you the whole time!"

Angel looked up at Collins. "Really?"

Collins looked at his feet. "Yeah. Oh! Come on! I thought it was really creative!"

"It is! I liked it," Angel said, giggling.

"Well, now that we're on the subject... erm..." Collins shifted nervously. "You wanna go out tonight?"

"What'll we do?"

"Dinner."

"Okay! I'd love to!"

"Great! Wear the dress."

"I promise I will!"

They turned to opposite directions, bright red. "See ya!" Angel whispered.

"Bye!" Collins said, waving.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Mimi inspected the latest outfit. 'Too slutty."

"Seriously?" Angel asked, playing with the hem of her skirt.

"Yeah. Your fishnets make you look... uhm... desperate."

"Oh... okay..."

"Is this _seriously _your first date in three years?"

"Yeah I think this is only my second date ever."

Mimi sighed. "Get the fishnets off. Keep the boots."

"Yes ma'am."

Angel walked back into her room.

"You've had sex, right?" Mimi asked.

"Sorta."

"What do you mean 'sorta?'"

"It was oral..."

"So _technically_, you're a virgin?"

"Mimi, I've had a penis in a hole. As far as I'm concerned, I'm not..."

The door rattled.

Angel poked her head out of her room, bright red. "Shit!"

"Suck it up," Mimi teased. She opened the door. "Collins! Hi!"

"Hey!" Collins said, hugging her. He wore a nice polo and jeans, the only thing holding them up being a studded belt.

"Ang's still getting on her boots," Mimi added.

"Okay."

A few minutes later, Angel whispered, "I'm ready."

"So come on out," Mimi grumbled. "I can't instruct you to do everything."

Angel's long legs were the first thing that Collins could see. They pulled her out of the room and he smiled. She wore her black wig and the dress they picked out. She wore her smokey eyeshadow and dark lipstick. She smiled and twirled. "Hi!"

"Hi, baby... you look amazing!"

Angel blushed, covering her cheeks. "Thank you so much."

"Come on! Let's go!" Collins said, grabbing her hand. Mimi opened the door, waving enthusiastically. "Have fun you two!"

"Let's go, Angel... to the van!" Collins cheered.

Angel nodded, following him obediently to the beat-up white van Roger "decorated" with green spray paint and bumper stickers. Collins opened the door for her and helped her in before going into the driver's seat. Angel noticed the lovely sound system.

"What do you wanna listen to, Angie?"

Angel looked at the CDs caught in the visor at the top of the car. She pushed them around. Most of it was art-rock like The Mars Volta, Coheed & Cambria, Jimi Hendrix, and the Doors. She kept looking and found Kerplunk! from Green Day. It seemed to stick out like a sore thumb.

"Oh God... Roger left that there," Collins mumbled.

Angel smirked.

"I guess it's obvious I'm not really into alt and punk... I mean, I like AFI and Nirvana, but..."

"It's _fine_, Collins," Angel said, finding her favorite AFI CD. "I don't care."

She straightened his blue beanie and flashed the CD in her hand. "Do you like this CD?"

"I love it."

"Good," she said as she put it into the CD player and went to the last track. "I love this song. You know how I looked... like... dumb at Hot Topic?"

"You didn't look dumb. Just different."

"Well, whatever. That was me twenty-four/seven in high school. I was hiding. And the only thing keeping me alive for awhile was this song."

----------------------------------------------------------

I left you on a mild cliff-hanger XD

Well, I can't give away the next track, or it'll spoil the chapter!

So please give some mail on this one! And have a fabulous day :D


	5. Morningstar

I had to update this again... the whole weekend I've been working on this fic and I am just so happy with it pets Yeah... uhm... that's all.

Oh, yeah, and thank you guys so effing much for liking this fic! None of this would be possible without you guys 3

**Rock n' Roll Life**

**By Donna**

**Chapter Five: Morningstar (AFI)**

The soft acoustic intro sailed into their ears. Collins smirked. A small, meek voice entered, uttering, "I saw a star beneath the stairs/Glowing through the melting wall/Who will be the first to begin their fall/Or will we become one?"

"So you're a morningstar," Collins said, quietly.

"Huh?" Angel asked.

"A morningstar. A perfectly good person who tries to put up a fight against the ares and alreadys, only to be defeated by their sun and their rays." He sounded to philosophical... so wise beyond his years. Angel thought he should have been in philosophy, not being a manager for a ragtag bands.

"Yeah," Angel said, looking at her feet. "I'm... I'm a morningstar."

The voice intensified, "Am I the star beneath the stairs/Am I the ghost upon the stage? Am I your anything?"

"Me, too."

They looked at each other and gave each other small, weak smiles. Collins looked down at his watch. "Aw, dammit. We really gotta go."

Angel nodded. "So let's go."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mark walked into his house and saw the red light on his phone blinking for voicemails. He glided over and counted the blinks. Three times. He picked up the phone and call himself.

"There are no raindrops on roses and girls in white dresses and one called Mark Cohen. He is not here. Please leave a message or two and if he is sane, he'll leave you a message, now have a nice day!"

He punched in the code and Maureen's voice came through:

"Pookie! It's me! Uhm... I wanna know where you are! Call me on my cell!"

Mark sighed. She called him Pookie. That was never a good sign.

Then came the polar opposite of Maureen.

"Hi, Mark! It's Angel. Uhm... I got a date with Collins tonight... and I wanted to see if you have any advice... but... I'll call Roger or something... or I'll wing it, I guess. Thank you so much, Mark! Love ya! Bye!"

Mark smiled. Collins was a great guy. Angel would have fun with him. He hoped for the best for them. Then came the last message.

"Hey, Mark... it's... it's Roger. I... I need... I dunno. Call me. Bye."

Mark bit his lip and checked the time of the call. It was only fifteen minutes ago. He called Roger.

"Hello?"

"Hi... it's... is this Mark?"

"Yeah, Roger, it's me. What's wrong?"

"Nothing really... do you got any money?"

"For?"

"I just need some money... I thought I had enough smack to hold me over for awhile... but I don't. Heh."

"Roger, I can't help you out in this one."

"Please?"

"No!"

"Fuck you! I'm gonna call Angel. She'll help me."

"Don't! Keep Angel out of this!"

"Goodbye, Cohen." He hung up the phone.

-------------------------------------------------------

Angel and Collins giggled as they walked into Angel's apartment. They wrapped their arms around each other, trying to stifle their laughter. Dinner was a success and Mimi wasn't home. They went to the couch. As Angel removed her heels, she asked, "You wanna watch a movie?"

"Sure! What d'ya got?"

"Weird stuff."

"I'll be the judge of it," Collins grumbled, crawling to the assortment of DVDs. He smiled. "I think you have every drag movie known to man." He found _Sleepy Hollow_. "This isn't one. He popped it in the DVD player and sat next to Angel. He leaned back, pulling Angel against him. They looked at each other and smiled.

"So," Collins said, "Do you kiss on the first date?"

"I really haven't thought about it. I... I've only had one other date."

"Are you serious! Ever! I mean... even I've had dates! You... only two?"

"Yep."

"But... you're... you're gorgeous."

"To you. But remember. My high school life was big pants, bandshirts, and inadequacies."

"Huh. So I take it you were the silent I'm-gonna-bring-a-gun-to-school-types?"

"Yeah," Angel said, leaning her elbow by Collins' head. "Especially during freshman and sophomore years. I met Mimi in junior year. She taught me a lot about... well... the world. So when we graduated and I was kicked out we decided to face the world together and, hopefully, defeat inner demons. Which... well... I haven't been very successful with... but it's only been several months... so I don't worry that much. I think."

"It explains why there's two of you."

"...What?"

"There's two of you. I mean, the boy working at Hot Topic is entirely different from the girl sitting next to me."

"I... I guess..." Angel played with her skirt. "Which one am I really?"

"The real you?" Collins asked, leaning his head closer to her's. "My Angel, that's for i you /I to decide. Not me."

"I know... but... but you're smart! I don't know what to do!"

"Angel, let's get real here. I'm twenty-nine. You're eighteen. There's eleven years worth of experience I have on you. You'll learn a lot and figure out who you are..."

"But, Collins, I know who I i want /I to be. I want to be the girl. I i like /I being the girl. Being the girl is i pleasing /I to me."

"So do just that. Be the girl. Don't have those stupid barriers."

Angel laughed weakly. "If only you knew, Collins..."

"I'm sure you've gone through bullshit. I have, too. But you don't have to be afraid anymore. You've got Roger, Mark, and me. Well, okay, scratch Mark out..." Angel giggled a little. Collins continued, smiling. "But like I said, Roger loves you to death. You're like a little sister to him. And I just, well, love you. You're pretty, you're smart, you're talented, you're kind, you're what I look for in anyone. So I promise, I'll cover you and keep those assholes at bay. I love you, Angel. I really do."

Angel leaned her head on his shoulder. "I love you, too."

Colins grabbed her chin and smiled. Angel smiled back. "Angel, about the first kiss thing..."

"Yeah?"

"Uhm... can I... just..."

"Go ahead."

Their lips met and they kissed long and innocently. The phone rang. Angel parted with him and grabbed the phone. "Hello?"

"Angel? Hey... it's Roger."

"Hi! Roger! What's wrong, honey?"

"I need some money... like i now /I . Do you got any?"

"Yeah! I got my purse right... here..."

"Thank you. Can you come over and drop it off?"

"Sure! See ya soon!"

Angel hung up and looked at Collins. "Roger needs some money and I'm going to drop it off."

"Okay. I'll drive you."

They piled into the van. They drove to Roger's and Angel got out of the car, grabbing her zebra-patterned purse. She knocked on the door of the pseudo-condo/house and saw Roger open it. He looked horrible. Angel gasped. "Roger, honey, are you okay?"

Roger nodded. "Yeah, yeah... where's the money?"

Angel pulled her purse open and handed him some twenties. "Here you go!"

Roger snatched it and mumbled thanks. He slammed the door on her. Angel backed away, running to the van. Collins opened the door for her and she fell on him, demanding him to punch it.

"He didn't call me Angie," Angel mumbled as they were driving down the street.

"Huh?" Collins asked.

"Angie," Angel said, "You know... it's kinda like a pet name he gave me. And... he didn't call me it... it was scary."

"That's Roger without his fix," Collins explained. "When he has heroin, he's okay. Take it away from him, he's a wreck. Just don't do it, okay?"

Angel nodded. "I refuse to."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mark laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He had The Cure playing and he wrapped himself up in turquoise sheets. He felt like he was floating. He didn't call Maureen back, but he still wished he had someone next to him. He realized a while ago he was going to have to break up with her. She was evidently cheating. She called him "Pookie" whenever she got a call from an anonymous man or woman. She'd go away a lot. She had every quality of a cheater. He had every quality of a man in denial. He got up and grabbed a picture of his bandmates from his nightstand. He smiled. It was one of the first times they all hung out together and they decided to go into the shopping district. They went into some mod boutique and Angel yelled, "Let's pose by the mannequins!"

Because of it, the picture captured Roger making out with a blonde mannequin, Mark socializing with one, and Angel mocking one. He smiled. He looked up at the ceiling again and realize he was at a crossroad. He had to decide... keep on being this "Mark" that he was so used to be, or become a "rock star Mark" that everyone in the fanbase would know him as.

He looked at his feet. He was going to have to change. And he was going to have to change fast.

-------------------------------------------------------------

**Recently Played Tracks:**

**"Changes" by David Bowie**

**"You're My Best Friend" by Queen**

**"Come as You Are" by Nivana**

**"First Date" by Blink-182**

**"Morningstar" by AFI**

**Upcoming Track:**

**"Boys Don't Cry" by The Cure**


	6. Boys Don't Cry

1Talk about quick updates! I really love this chapter, so I wanted to get it up really quickly. And before you ask, April's speech is, in fact, by me :D I'm so proud of myself. It's gotta be one of my personal bests :3

**Rock n' Roll Life**

**By Donna**

**Chapter Six: Boys Don't Cry (The Cure)**

"I... I don't know if we should do this..."

"Angel, don't be afraid."

"But, _Mark_, I... I got a really bad feeling about this."

"It's not gonna make you look bad in anyone's eyes, seriously. Don't worry."

"_Fine_," Angel grumbled. She took the hairdye out of the packaging. "I still think this is a bad idea."

"C'mon, Angel! We're recording... worse comes to worse, I can fix my hair by the time we're on tour."

"Okay..."

Angel opened the color mousse and put it in Mark's hair, looking at the packaging for direction. She tried to block out the rather gleeful woman with collagen-filled lips smiling back at her with deep purple hair. She grumbled as she made sure she got every inch of Mark's hair. She wiped her hands on her old Misfits shirt. "Now... we wait."

Mark grinned, looking rather odd without his glasses and his hair up in mousse.

After thirty minutes they washed Mark's head and dried it. Angel bit her lip, keeping his head away from the mirror. Mark pushed against her hand and looked into the reflection. He grinned. "I like it!"

Angel nodded. "Good."

"Now," Mark said, handing her a pair of scissors.

Angel's hands shook nervously. "What!"

"Come on! Snip away!"

Angel gulped. "It's not... it's gonna look like..."

"I don't care. Just do it... or... or I'll kick you out of the band."

Angel rolled her eyes. "Fine... it's gonna look like a rat's nest..."

"Oh well."

Angel took a lock of his hair and snipped. "I can't believe I'm doing this..."

After styling and a wardrobe configuration, Mark was complete. Now it was time to show everyone. The usual crew was going to be at a danceclub nearby tonight and they were ready to show their little art project.

"You ready?" Mark asked.

"Hold on!" Angel said, running next to him. "Lemme get this shirt off..."

Mark's eyes bulged. He covered his eyes as he heard material being flung on the floor. "Take a look, Mark," Angel begged.

Mark dropped his hands and gasped. "Wow..."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roger, April, Maureen, Collins, and Mimi waited patiently at the front of the club. They were dressed to kill. Roger wore a tank with handguns on it and a big, studded belt. April was all over him, her too-short green dress continuously showing too-much leg. Mimi sat on the curb, playing with her gold dress, and talking to Collins. She loved Collins. He was exactly what she wanted to Angel. She played with the bill of Collins' green beanie. "How many of these do you own?"

"How many shoes do you own?"

"Nice."

Maureen's leather legs twitched. "Where is he?"

Roger looked at Collins and said, teasingly, "I think your girlfriend's cheating on you!"

Collins rolled his eyes, grinning. Angel and Collins' relationship was taken with open-arms. Mark admitted they were probably one of the most sickeningly sick couples and Roger used it as a good thing to build song ideas from.

Collins looked up. "I see them! Hey, Angel! Hey, Mark!"

Angel and Mark ran up to them. Everyone gasped. Angel looked obviously stunning. She wore a strapless zebra dress and extra-high heels, and Mark... Mark was entirely different. His hair was ruby red and snipped in complex layers. He had kohl-rimmed eyes that made his eyes look electric blue. He wore a striped three-quarter sleeve shirt and, yes, _boy's _pants. He blinked, glassesless.

"What happened!" everyone asked.

"Makeover!" Angel chirped, "Could you believe he's had contacts for ages and he just never uses them? They're not even the right prescription."

Roger gasped. "This is awkward."

"You cut his hair, didn't you, Angel?" Mimi asked, playing with Mark's hair.

"Yeah," Angel said. She looked at the door. "Come on, guys! We're here to dance, aren't we?"

April nodded. She yanked at Roger and led him inside.

Maureen grabbed Mark's arm. "Come on, Pookie."

Mark gulped. Now for the next step of the metamorphosis of Mark Cohen. "No."

"What?"

"No. I'm not... no. Maureen, I can't do this anymore. It's over." Mark pulled out of her grasp. Maureen gasped. "You fucking prick! I was the one that told you to get into bass, remember? Without me..."

"...there probably wouldn't be any Treehuggers," Mark ended, "I know. But you're... you're a cheater nonetheless. I can't stand it."

Angel looked at Collins and leaned again him.

Maureen growled. "Fine. You... you know what? Fine! But you'd... you're _nothing _without me!"

Mark walked by Angel and Collins. "Fuck off."

Maureen pouted, storming off. Mimi waved. "Bye, bye!"

Mark smiled. Collins slapped him on the shoulder. Angel gave Mark a big hug. "C'mon, honey! Let's go inside!"

They got inside and Mark sighed. "I'm so glad that's over with."

"I hear ya," Angel said, "C'mon! Dance with me!"

Mark raised his eyebrows. "What?"

"Dance with me! You, too, Collins. Of course, you."

Collins took a sip of his beer. "I don't dance."

Mark nodded. "Me either."

"What!" Angel yelled. "We're at a dance club! You gotta dance!"

"We don't dance," Mark and Collins said at the same time.

"Don't or can't?"

Mark and Collins looked at each other. "Can't."

Angel frowned. "Roger can't either! But look! There's Frankenstein, sucking it up!"

Collins shook his head. "Ang..."

"I'll teach you too! C'mon!"

She pulled them on the dancefloor. Some remix to a pop song was playing and Angel pushed Mark and Collins into moving to the music. She tried to help them out, giving them something to go by. She continuously kissed and touched Collins, reminding him that she was his. Collins was in shock at how sexual Angel became when music was on. He made a note of it for future reference.

After five songs, Angel said, "I knew you two could dance."

Mark and Collins stood there, barely able to move. "Wow."

Angel walked over to Mimi, who was standing again the wall.

"Lucky bastard having a girl like that," Mark said, jokingly.

"Yeah... I know..." Collins said, trying to escape the dancefloor.

"I hate you."

April noticed. "Did you see that!"

"Yep."

"He's..."

"She's amazing, our little drummer girl."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"C'mon, dance with me," Angel begged, "We gotta show Mark and Collins how it's done."

"Hold on," Mimi said, "Can I talk to you for a moment?"

"Sure."

"Let's go to the bathroom."

"Erm..."

"Oh, shut up. You're a girl as far as I can tell."

They walked to the girl's room and stood in the corner.

"Okay," Mimi said, "I got an idea."

"Uh huh?" Angel asked, her ears ringing.

"Okay. You really love Collins, don't you?"

"Yeah. Of course! I mean... he's the only guy I'll probably ever... trust..."

"With?"

Angel glued her legs together.

"I knew it! Well, Collins and I were talking and I kinda asked him about that."

"God! Mimi!"

"Come on! Anyway, he said that he really loves you, too, and uhm... he's not a virgin, for the record."

Angel blushed.

"Anyway, what I'm saying is that he's being really patient with you. And he's not gonna go to the next step unless you do."

"And that is?"

"You gotta get him to sleep over!"

Angel paled. "Are you serious?"

"Yep. I am. You gotta ask him... tonight."

"What do I do after that!"

"Take it from there. Remember when we shopped for lingerie?"

Angel blushed. "Oh God... uhm... yeah... Okay..."

"Now," Mimi said, hooking arms with her, "We dance."

"Indeed," Angel said as they left the bathroom.

After a few more hours of dancing, Angel, Mimi, and Collins went to Collins' van. As they sat, Angel said, "Hey, Collins... did you know we've been going out for two months?"

"Officially?" Collins asked.

"Yep," Angel said, smiling. She kissed him.

"Congrats, you two," Mimi added, beaming.

Angel smiled back. She kissed Collins once more and asked, "Do you wanna stay over tonight? Mimi's cool with it. Hell, she's excited."

Mimi grinned.

Collins nodded. "Sure." He kissed her and started the car. They made it to the apartment and as soon as Mimi got inside she stretched and yawned loudly. "Well, goodnight!" She went to her room.

Angel whispered, "Oh shit... you don't have clothes..." This was a disaster already.

Collins took off his shirt and began to remove his pants.

"And you're all sweaty! Gross!"

"Not really. But..."

"Whatever. I'm going to go get dressed. I'll be back." Angel walked to her room, nervous. She locked the door and went to her closet. She had tons of costume she and Mimi collected for no real reason. She found the infamous lingerie set. Nothing was more awkward than Mimi groping her and announcing, "We need an A cup!" She gulped, slipping off her dress. "Should I... whatever..." She could care less that she smelled like sweat and almost nonexistent perfume. She snapped the bra on, almost panicking as she couldn't get it on. She slipped the panties on and sighed, looking at the mirror. She quickly covered herself. She looked around and found her red silk robe. She slipped it on and walked to Collins.

Collins smirked. "Come here."

They kissed and felt like the luckiest people on earth.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once again, Mark was in his room, The Cure moaning. This time he was as well, out of desperation, frustration, and temporary pleasure. After deeming himself somewhat relieved he cleaned up and sighed. He could cut his hair, take away his glasses, change his clothes... but inside he could never change. He was Mark Cohen, a tragedy case who was now alone.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After just standing there, entirely silent, Angel and Collins walked to Angel's room. Angel tried to be as quiet as a mouse while opening the door and closing it. Collins tried to be gentle as he felt her shake against him. "Angel... if you don't want me to..."

"...Oh... come on. I want you to. I'm just sucking at showing it."

She realized how clumsy she was without the music or a public to watch. Her hands couldn't fall on the right place and just slumped at his hips.

"Can we lay down?" Angel asked.

"Sure."

They laid down on the bed. Collins grabbed on the wide assortment of pillows. "So you've only had one date before me?"

"Yep."

"Can I ask you about it?"

"It was a really sweet, artsy kid in freshman year. He had long black hair and wore only purple. We went to some restaurant, but..."

"What happened?"

"His parents weren't took keen on us. We were forced apart, him being shipped off to Connecticut. I never got that, because, I mean, he wore i purple /I all the time. That's a dead giveaway. But don't worry about it. I love you now and... uhm..." She looked around. "I'm sorry... I must be the worse person ever..."

"Not at all! Everyone else is shit compared to you. Trust me." They kissed a little, moving around and getting caught in blankets. All of the nervous energy was being burned off.

"Uhm... Collins?"

"Yeah?"

"I was... I was wondering... uhm... could we... uhm... go... do... it?"

Collins was ready to burst with laughter at her approach to it. "Sure?"

"Can you teach me?"

"Sure."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roger looked around. "April... I don't know if we should keep doing this whole drug thing... I mean, we keep asking people for money and..."

"What? No!" April yelled, pulling apart a box they kept their needles in.

"I dunno... I mean..." Roger mumbled, "I really don't..." He stared at the needle and felt it calling him. "The band is sick of it."

April grunted. "The band has no right to tell you what to do. We all have addictions. Each of your bandmates do. It's one of three things. Sex, drugs, or rock n' roll. Angel's sex. He loves love and loves to be loved, you know? When I saw him dancing... I mean... seriously. He was pretty much having vertical sex with Mark and Collins. Then there's you. You're drugs. Drugs make you Roger Davis. They're as much a part of you as your pretty green eyes." She stroked his cheek. "It's not bad. It's just you. And then there's Mark. He's rock n' roll. Mark lives, breaths, and speaks his art. It's his passion. But he's the true problem. You see, rock kids don't find pleasure in drugs and sex and don't find any pleasure in general. Sex people can get people to love them and drug people can get drugs to love them. But rock kids... well... honey, you can listen to a CD over and over again... but it won't love you back. No matter how much it may seem. Now, get over here and help me!"

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I'm done.


	7. When You're Around

**Disclaimer:** I do not own RENT, Motion City Soundtrack, Wendy's, Hot Topic, or Helena.

**Rock n' Roll Life**

**By Donna**

**Chapter Seven: When "You're" Around (Motion City Soundtrack)**

"Where's Angel?" Mark asked, trying to tune his bass.

"Huh? Oh. She just called," Roger said, "She's gonna be late."

"That's weird. Oh well. I'm sure she's got a pretty good reason."

After a few minutes, the door swung open. Angel came in swiftly, trying to catch his breath. Mark and Roger noticed that he wore sweats and an old, paint-stained bandshirt. Very uncharacteristic for someone like Angel, who took time whenever possible to look presentable. "Where were you?" Mark asked.

"I overslept," Angel mumbled, pushing his curls down.

"Uh huh," Roger said, "Is it me, or do I see you have a slight limp, my Angie?"

Angel's eyes narrowed. In a high, scared voice he cried, "Fuck you!"

"Dude, did you get _laid_!" Mark asked bluntly. "Come on! Tell us!"

Angel walked to his drums. "Collins and I spent the night together."

"Are you serious! Collins consented to that!" Roger exclaimed.

"_Yes_. We had a nice night and... we sorta did some things. Are you happy?"

"Yeah!" Roger yelled, "Wait... with Collins?"

"Who do you think I'd be with!"

"Mimi?"

"Gag! I'm late! I got some with your best friend! End of story!"

"Collins had sex..." Mark whispered.

Angel screamed, "Can we please stop this discussion!"

Roger snickered. "Sorry, Angie. I couldn't help it. To make up for it, we'll have a quick rehearsal, okay?"

"Thank you."

"...I know how much you wanna get back to work."

"...Roger..."

Roger blasted a chord and made them play.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Angel went home to see Mimi eating. She chewed her cereal loudly as she said, "I never though I'd see a guy in your bed, but I opened your door and I saw one. So, about the whole 'virginity' thing..."

Angel shook his head. "Don't wanna talk about it."

He opened the door to his bedroom and stopped. He saw Collins in his bed. He smiled. The lack of sleep and constant teasing by everyone jumped out the window a t the sight of Collins' eyes opening slightly and a soft, "Hey, baby," escaping his lips.

Angel felt chills. "Hey."

He rolled next to Collins, slipping off his shoes. He kissed Collins forehead and sighed. "I'm gonna go back to sleep."

"Okay," Collins said. He wrapped his arms around Angel and brought him close. "Night."

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Mark and Roger walked into the Wendy's by their practice area, which was just a garage they rented out from a friend in another band in the scene.

Roger opened the door, April's "Sex, Drugs, and Rock n' Roll" bit still fresh in his mind. "So... how're ya doing with the break-up?"

Mark shrugged, walking forward. "Okay... I mean... it's a break-up. It sucks."

"Yeah... you're right."

Roger walked on line, Mark padding behind. "What're you getting?"

"Hm..." Roger's finger pointed up and down the menu. "I'll get the number three."

"Burger? Oh... I'm getting nine. Chicken is where it's at, man."

They ordered, paid, got their food, got assorted condiments, and picked a seat far away from the children's section. They stared at each other for awhile until Mark started to laugh. "I can't believe Collins and Angel hooked up!"

Roger rolled his eyes.

Mark shook his head. "Seriously. I mean... they just..."

"Don't really fit? I think that's why they work. I mean, do you really consider Angel a queen?"

"No!"

"Do you consider Collins gay or straight?"

"Neither."

"There you go."

"Lucky... little..."

"Aw, Mark! Look on the bright side! You're single!"

"And that means..."

They grinned wickedly. "Groupies!"

"Anyway," Mark said, sipping his soda, "Did you hear?"

"What?"

"I got a call from Alternative Press. They want to put us in their '100 upcoming band' issue."

"Are you serious?"

"Yep! We have to meet with them in Manhattan for a shoot and interview."

"Wow! AP!" Roger exclaimed, leaning back on his chair. "Oh God... I remember reading that and dreaming of being in it..."

"I know, right?"

"But... hey... when did you plan on telling me this?"

"The day before, probably."

"I hate you."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two weeks later, the Subatomic Treehuggers found themselves on a set designed like a funeral parlor. Mark and Roger wore suits and Angel wore a black dress with a black veil in her eyes. Bored with the camera man fiddling with his camera, Angel began to spin around, screaming, "I'm Helena!" She moved her arms dramatically, giggling.

The cameraman woke up suddenly from his daze and began taking pictures of her dance. She began belting out the song, clearly being over-dramatic. She looked at Roger and said, "I've been working too long in Hot Topic." She fell back, playing dead.

Roger and Mark gasped. "Are you okay?"

Angel got up, the cameraman ready to keel over with laughter. He choked out, "You guys are nuts..."

The band looked at each other, hoping that it was a good thing.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Alternative Press**

**Up-And-Coming: 100 Bands You Should Know About For 2006**

_**Subatomic Treehuggers**_

_**From New York**_

_**Sounds Like: Nirvana/My Chemical Romance/Queen**_

Each band has some sort of add-on to it aside from the music. Some bands have a very charismatic frontman, others have a habit of throwing meat at their audience, and some are just too much of a weird combination to pass up.

Enter Subatomic Treehuggers. The band started in 2003 by Roger Davis, the Kurt Cobain-estque frontman and Mark Cohen, their newly-made over bassist. After their drummer left earlier this year, they picked up the very young Angel Dumott-Schunard (each member is 26, 25 and 18, respectively). Schunard, an out crossdresser, has caused quite a stir with SAT's cult fanbase. She earned the pet name "Fighter Fairy" after sticking up for herself after a "jerk-off gave her shit" according to Davis.

"I didn't plan on any of this happening," Schunard said, blushing, as I interviewed the band in a small, mod café, "with these _cute, little cappuccino cups_!" Cohen describes, waving a cup in Davis' face. Schunard shakes her head and looks back at the interview in progress. "Anyway, I just did what an intelligent person would do. Don't let yourself get plowed over by someone."

SAT is working on their second LP as we speak (clips are available for download on their Myspace http/ and are shooting for a release in May. "We're going to try our best, but if it sounds like shit we're going to keep working at it. We're looking for quality on this one," Davis adds.

Cohen agrees. "Yeah... we've all got different interests. Like, I'm more into indie and emo, and Roger's more into grunge and alternative, and Angel's into glam and punk, so we're trying to bring all our interests together, and our lives as well, to make this really awesome sound."

Schunard nods. "Yep. Well put, honey. We're going to be like _nothing _you've ever heard."

And I think no one has any complaints. **ALTend**

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Uhm... Roger?" Angel asked, her voice oddly meek.

"What, Angie?" Roger asked. They were up to vocal tracking and they were all a little nervous about how it'd come together.

"Erm... you know the part in '(April is) the Cruelest Month' for me?"

"Yeah?"

"My part's too low."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"So jump an octave."

"Okay... I just wanted to make sure... it's your song and all..."

"What are you anyway?"

"Huh?"

"Alto, tenor, bass..."

"Oh... Uhm... heh. I was put into the girl's section because they didn't know what to do with me."

"Why didn't you say so? No wonder you were always off in rehearsal! If you said something, I would have made your parts higher!"

"No worries. I'm the drummer, you're the brains."

"No, we're a _band_. There's three of us, but we work as one. Remember that. If you got a problem, tell me. Don't hide it."

"Okay," Angel said, walking away, her bracelets jingling. Roger smiled. She was so mature for her age, clearly more than Roger when he was eighteen, and yet at times she had a naivete to her that he thought was something only someone so cut off from human contact at times could have. He looked at the piece of paper that he had scribbled the lyrics to one of his songs on. He sang:

"She's a box of contradictions,

With black and white across her legs,

As she sits with latest addictions,

With him as he goes up to her and begs..."

He smirked. Even though he liked to think he knew everything about his band, he really didn't. It was a fun challenge for him. One day he would know everything about his band, but for now they were all wrapped in their own mysteries.


	8. Populace In Two

1**Disclaimer:** I don't own RENT, From First To Last, and such.

Thank you Sarah for betaing this :3

**Rock n' Roll Life**

**By Donna**

**Chapter Eight: Populace in Two (From First to Last)**

Mark walked into the studio, his face pale as a ghost.

Roger and Angel, who were waiting for him on a couch, looked up, concerned. "What's wrong?"

"Well... I just finished a phone call with my mother. She wants us to have dinner at her house tonight," Mark announced, slapping his hands at his sides as he walked closer to the couch.

An "Oh" was heard from the back of the room. Everyone turned their head to see Collins. Collins sat next to Angel and absentmindedly traced her collarbone. "Okay. Sounds good."

"Does she know..." Angel started, looking at Collins.

"She knows everything," Mark explained, "She even knows Roger does some stuff... but she has a habit of asking these really exploitive questions... like, Angie, you won't be safe. End of story."

"They aren't that bad, Mark..." Roger said.

"It's rude!" Mark argued.

"I'm okay with it," Angel said, laying back on the couch. "I mean, it's not everyday you see someone like me. Don't worry, Mark!"

Mark looked at her, slightly shocked by her opinion. "You sure?"

"Yeah! Really. I just need to find a nice outfit."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So... when did you know you were gay, Angel?"

Angel blushed, dropping her fork. She looked at Mark's mother and tried to form words. "W-well... uhm... I think I was... erm... Eleven." She coughed nervously.

"So young! What about the crossdressing thing?"

Angel cleared her throat. It was sore all day, but she knew that if she didn't confront Mark's mother today, she would only persist on becoming part of Angel's life. "W-well... I think I was four or five. My parents thought it was a phase... but... it wasn't." She smiled weakly. Ever since she became friends with Mark, Roger, and Collins, she had a tendency of forgetting she was a "young gay man." They made her feel like the cool girl that always hung out with the big boys.

"May I ask why you do it?"

Angel's eyes widened and her smile fell. "I don't... know."

Roger came in to save the day. "She's a woman with a penis!"

Angel fell back on her chair, embarrassed. She swallowed down a cough and tried to think. She didn't have a reason, really... not one that she could think of at least. She somehow, over the years, became synonymous with the female clothing style and the female, well, kind. She looked at Collins for help. He grabbed her hand and whispered, "Don't worry about it."

But she couldn't help it. Her eyebrows furrowed. Why did she dress like this? What was she doing this for? Why was she this way? This reminded her of when she was with Collins the first night and she asked him who she was. She felt a chill crawl down her spine. If only she could be comfortable like Mark, Roger, and Collins. She coughed. She'd never be like them. Collins rubbed her back, trying to ease her frustration. He pulled her close and whispered, "After this, you're sleeping at my place, alright? I'll make you something and we'll just hang out and _relax_, okay?" Collins did not catch on that she was sick, but he knew she was in distress, and he knew a night alone with her would help.

Angel nodded. She kissed his cheek and looked at the food on her plate. She pushed it around and put her fork down. The food was great, but her throat and body just couldn't take it. She hadn't been feeling good all day, but now she could honestly say she felt sick.

"Angel-honey, are you okay?" Mark's mother asked, "You look a little pale."

Angel mumbled, "I just feel a little sick..."

"I'll take you home," Collins said, "We can't have you catch something bad. We're almost done with that album, you know!"

"Good idea," Mark's mother said. She cleaned their plates. "I'll get you a water bottle, okay? You want anything else?"

"No... I'm good."

"I'm sorry, Angel."

"No... I should be."

Collins helped her get on a jacket and they left relatively quietly.

"What happened there?" Roger asked, "She really did look sick."

"It seems like a mix of teen angst, identity crisis, and the sudden need to vomit," Mark concluded. "She might even have a fever. She'll be okay."

"I must've scared the poor girl," Mark's mother murmured.

"Yeah, Mom," Mark said, "She's still really confused about that stuff... don't ask her those things just yet."

"I'm going to make her some soup... poor dear..."

Roger shook his head. "Better she gets sick now than later, I guess..."

------------------------------------------------------------------

"Uhmm... take out the thermometer, please," Collins said, tugging at the plastic in Angel's mouth.

Angel groaned, slowly opening her mouth and allowing Collins to check. "Uh huh. Fever. Anything hurt? You need a bag?"

Angel fell back on the bed. "Maybe."

"You really are sick..."

"Yeah... Sucks, right?"

Collins laughed until Angel gagged.

"Oh God... Lemme get the bag..." Collins said.

"No... I'll go to the bathroom," Angel said, trying to get up. Collins scooped her and propped her by the toilet. He leaned against the tub. "Do you always blank?"

"When?" Angel asked, removing her wig.

"When people ask you about... your... erm... dressing."

"Yeah, I mean... no... no one really asks me..."

"Is there anything you're not telling me?" Collins asked, grabbing her wig, "Or any of us? You've got a habit of being open and once anyone gets close to you, you hide. It's frustrating. I love you, Angel, but if you..."

He stopped, hearing Angel sniffle. Angel gagged and turned to the toilet. Collins flinched at the sound of vomit hitting the toilet and, in an echoed voice, Angel mumbled, "I'm sorry... you're right... I... I..." She vomited again and pulled back.

"Lemme clean your face," Collins said, pulling a towel from his closet. "Maybe we should talk about some stuff."

Angel took the towel and put it against her mouth. She wiped her face clean and said, into the towel, "I know when I started drag. My sister and I were really close back when we were little." Her voice sounded like it was about to flicker out. "And... and she'd always make me play her little games... dolls... dress-up..." She shrugged. "I liked it. I'm not gonna lie. When she got outfits that were too-big, she'd give them to me. I loved them... and... heh... no one else did."

"People really fucked you up, didn't they?"

"Collins, of course people fucked me up. There's no shock there."

Collins laughed nervously. "Would it hurt if I ask what happened?"

"It wouldn't hurt as much as my head right now."

"Oh God! I'm sorry! When you get better, we'll have a nice, long talk. All of us. But you gotta get better first, alright?"

Angel nodded, rubbing her nose. "Yeah, yeah... okay."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Please don't do this..." Angel mumbled.

"Oh, shut up!" Collins said, laughing. He pulled the key to Angel's apartment out of his pocket and he unlocked the door, juggling Angel and the key. He swung it open and saw Mimi sitting at a table.

"Well, well, well, look who's back!" Mimi said, a big grin on her face.. "Thank you, Doctor Collins! She's good as new!"

Angel kissed Collins and smiled. After spending three nights at Collins' she was better. It was a stomach virus defeated by TLC, antibiotics, and a nice, warm, bed.

"Put me down!" Angel whispered.

Collins put her down. "Get a shower! You stink!" He smacked Angel's butt. Angel squealed, running away.

Mimi smiled. "Marry her already!"

Collins blushed. The shower went on and he leaned on the frame of the doorway. "Uhm... Mimi?"

"Yeah?"

"You've known Angel for awhile, right?"

"Yep."

"Can you answer me something?"

"What?"

"Did she ever get... beaten up?"

Mimi nodded. "Of course she did. We met that way. Someone was giving her shit and I saved her ass."

"Do you know what they did to her?"

"We didn't really talk about it... but she said once they beat her up in the broom closet in school. Most of it was verbal, though. Ask her. Maybe she'll tell you. She loves you."

"...I can try," Collins said, "We're going to Roger's tonight. I'm hoping we all can throw some skeletons out of the closet. We need to, or we'll all go insane."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roger threw his needles and other paraphernalia in a shoebox. He continuously cursed under his breath as he tried to hide it.

April raised her head from the couch, staring at his lithe body squirm along the floor, picking up anything he deemed inappropriate. "I don't see the big deal... everyone knows..."

"Help me!" Roger yelped, in clear distress. Roger, believe it or not, felt shame for his actions. His relationship with Mark was never the same after he admitted to Mark about the fact he did do heroin. And Angel... Angel was still a kid. She was one of the few innocent kids in the world, and he didn't want to ruin it. Although he mentally questioned himself why he allowed her into the world of rock n' roll. If anything ever happened to her...

April crawled on the ground, grabbing an empty baggie. "So... the album's almost done?"

"Yep. Angel's all better so we're just doing finishing touches. We're gonna make our date!" Roger cheered.

"That's always good," April said, shoving his box under the couch. She groaned, sitting on the carpet.

"What's wrong?" Roger asked.

"Oh... I dunno. It's just... you... you seem to talk more about Angel and your band than me. And... and you're going to go on tour and I miss you now, and..."

"April, I love you. You were fully aware when we started going out, I was going to be busy. I promise you I refuse to do anything to Angel, or Mark, or anyone that has to do with the band. So don't even start."

April looked down, dejected. "I'm sorry I even cared."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aaaand... the chapter is done! Comments, questions, concerns, and such will be taken and luffed.


	9. Dirty Little Secret

1**Disclaimer:** I don't own RENT, Converse, Myspace and such

**Rock n' Roll Life**

**By Donna**

**Chapter Nine: Dirty Little Secret**

Roger lay down on the white rug, clutching his burgundy pillow for dear life. He looked at his bandmates and manager, who didn't look as comfortable as he, and his girlfriend running around in the kitchen area, getting ready to leave. He decided to start the meeting, even though it was only intended for the four of them (Originally three, but seeing as how Collins had become "the fourth Treehugger", leaving him out of the loop would be cruel).

"Well," Roger said, "First off, Mark, take off your damn shoes and stay awhile."

Mark nodded, slipping off his Converse. He tried to relax.

"Two, Angel, we know you and Collins are fucking, you don't have to look like you're entirely avoiding him."

Angel rolled her eyes and leaned on Collins' back, who, like Roger, was laying across the carpet.

"And three, why do you guys all look so tense? We're just getting to know each other."

"Not everyone is able to open themselves like you, Rog," Mark said, "So cut us some slack..."

Angel nodded.

Roger sighed. "Okay, well, that's okay, Mark. We have all night. Collins and I figured that we really don't know that much about each other, because we've all met at different times. Like, I've known Mark since high school, we met Collins when we came into the city, and Angie... well, we just met you... erm... a few months ago. And I figured, seeing as how we'll be touring soon and having to hang out with each other even more than now, we should know a little bit of our backgrounds, likes, dislikes, people we want to rip the heads off of..."

Mark blinked. "God, are you on speed, too? I barely caught that."

Roger shook his head.

"Okay, then, Doctor Phil," Mark said, leaning back on the side of the couch, "Let's hear something about you."

"Sure. All you have to do is ask."

"Okay," Mark played with his glasses subconsciously, "When did you get into drugs?"

Roger groaned. This was typical of Mark. "I've been smoking since I was a sophomore, drinking since I was a freshman, and I've been using heroin for a few years... like... two or three."

"Huh. Funny. Didn't you start dating April three years..."

"Shut up, Cohen!" April screeched from the kitchen. She ran into the room, her eyes ready to burn a hole through him. "I know where you're getting at... you fucking prick! I'm leaving! _Goodbye, motherfuckers!_"

April stormed to the coat rack, stole Roger's old green hoodie, and swung the door open. Angel begged, "April, honey, please come here... we can talk this..." but she was too late. April slammed the door, the whole room shaking. Everyone flinched from the noise and tried to resume the meeting.

Angel shook her head and looked at Roger. "Uhm... anyway... do you have any brothers or sisters, Roger?"

"Roger shook his head. "No. My mom tried to have some more children, but they all miscarried. Why? Do you have any?"

Angel nodded. "I got a little sister. Uhm... yeah."

Roger tried to make eye contact with Angel. Angel curled up, refusing to look at him. "What are you doing? Stop it..." she whispered.

"I'm curious," Roger said, "Do your parents... know?"

"Know about what?"

"About anything. The drag. The band. Collins."

"Oh... well... they know about the drag. And... that's it. I think."

"What do you mean 'I think?'"

"I only talk to my grandmother. I don't know if she tells the rest of the family."

"Ah, so they're trying to pretend that you don't exist. Nice."

Angel shrugged. "I guess. Uncreative, right?"

Roger sat up. "You don't have to answer this, I've pretty much put you on the spot, but, uhm, what was your relationship with your father?"

Angel laughed bitterly.

"That bad, huh?"

"Well... we were okay for awhile. I played soccer for a long time. But as soon as I hit high school it was all down hill. You know what I mean?"

Roger nodded. "Sadly, I do."

"Let me guess, your father disapproved of your 'rocker lifestyle?'"

"Oh, he just didn't like me in general. I'd have to poof into a bottle of vodka for him to like me."

Mark made a strange squeaking noise.

"Mark?" everyone asked.

"I remember his dad... nasty son of a bitch..." Mark mumbled, "Angie, he was a tall sonuvabitch. Like, you see how Roger's pretty tall, it's all from him. He had that dirty blonde hair like Roger's, but he had dog shit brown eyes."

Roger laughed. "Yep! That's him in a nutshell!"

Angel nodded.

"Baby, can I ask you something?" Collins asked, poking Angel's thigh.

"What, Tom?" Angel asked.

"Can you tell Mark and Roger about your grandma?"

Angel smiled. "Of course. She's really teeny, but she's really tough. She's known about me for a long time... she claims she's always known that I was... well... gay. One time she nearly beat up some guys because they were making fun of me."

"Oh, awesome!" Mark said, laughing, "I wanna meet your kickass granny!"

Angel giggled. "I need to get her to live here in the US... she's in Puerto Rico. I'm going to get her a house or something when I get the money. I have her phone number if you want to call her... she's not the most fluent in English, but I think you'll manage."

"Don't you have to pay long-distance? Hell no!" Roger joked. He snickered and said, "Ah, I'm kidding. I'll talk to her. We'll have a ball."

Mark took everything in carefully. He looked down at his hands. He was so... normal. Roger's father, in case no one could tell, was an alcoholic. Angel... He was surprised that with Angel's turmoil she didn't throw herself off a cliff, to say the least. But something in her head kept her going. Whatever it was. He slipped, "I can't believe we're so fucked up..."

"Don't say that, Mark," Collins whispered, "It's not that we're 'fucked up.' We just... well... every artist has pain."

Angel nodded in agreement. She leaned into Collins and kissed him. She crawled over to Roger and Mark and kissed them as well.

Roger, who was blushing almost as much as Mark, stared at her for a moment. "What was that for?"

Angel shrugged. "It's Angel Dumott-Schunard for, 'Holy fuck, I think you saved my life.'" She flashed a smile. She looked at Mark, who was beet red. "Oh God! Are you okay?"

Mark nodded. "Oh... yeah... Collins?"

Collins laughed. "I don't care. She's a little girl with a big heart."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

**Subatomic Treehugger's Blog Singles! Videos! Roger! Oh my!**

guess what, bitches!

were filming in CALIFORNIA :)))))))))

im chillin with mark n collins in this trailer. theyre messin up angel as we speak. excuse me, doing make-up to angel. mark is looking over my shoulder. they said im not allowed to tell you guys what the video is about because of some legal thing... I dun get it... maybe you do.

IT'S OUR FIRST VIDEO! YAAAAAY:DDDDDDDD

-roger

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Roger looked up from his laptop, his eyes wide. "A...Angie? What are you doing with that shovel?"

Angel swung her prop around. "We're making fun of punk and scremo, remember? What better way to do it than prance around with shovels and dress all in black and red!"

Roger noted Angel's red mask that was painted over her eyes. "I'm gonna have to do that?"

Angel nodded. "You'll look like Gerard Way!"

"Oh great..."

"Where's Markie?"

Roger looked around. Mark had somehow disappeared. "Mark?"

They noticed the bathroom door opened a crack. "Go away."

"Oh, right," Roger said, "He's freaking out because they're turning him emo again."

"Uhm... Markie?" Angel asked, "You're always emo."

"That's mean!" Collins said from the other side of the trailer.

"It's true!" Angel exclaimed, "All he does it go 'Oh! My life sucks! Uh! Uh! Hairflip!'" She began to spin around dramatically, moaning.

Roger flinched. "Angie... please don't do that..."

Mark opened the door and looked at her. "I hate you all."

Angel, Roger, and Collins smiled nervously.

"Stop looking at me!" Mark yelled, jumping into the bathroom again.

-------------------------------------------------------------


	10. Girl's Not Grey

**Disclaimer:** I don't own MTV, MTV2, Rolling Stone, Fuse, LOGO, AFI, and such!

**Rock n' Roll Life**

**Chapter Ten: Girl's Not Grey (AFI)**

"Congrats, you guys!" Collins said, sitting down with an armload of drinks, "The video was a success, and Mark didn't have a nervous breakdown!"

"Yay!" the band and crew cheered, raising their fists.

Collins began to pass out the drinks. "Hmm... here're some beers... and Sprite for you, baby..."

Angel took the can of soda, rolling her eyes. Roger popped the tab to his beer and snuck her a sip of it. Collins shot him a dirty look.

"I think this one will be a hit, guys," the director announced, "You are all really good actors. Oh, and Rog, I know you were ready to scratch off your makeup. Thanks for hanging in there."

Roger winked, wiping lipstick off his can.

"So, what's gonna happen now?" Mark asked.

"Well, we'll send it to stations like Fuse and MTV and we see what happens," Collins explained, "If they like it, they'll put it on."

"Whoa, MTV?" Roger asked.

"Is that bad?" a producer asked.

"No, no... I just... would they want us?" Roger took a sip of his beer, wiping his finger across the bottom of his lip.

Angel laughed. "MTV plays music videos? I had no idea."

"I didn't mean that!" Roger said, "I meant... you know..."

"Her?" Mark asked, pointing to Angel.

Angel grinned. "It'd be hilarious if they can't air it because of me."

"Is it possible?" Mark asked.

"Yeah," Angel said, "The Strokes' video for 'Juicebox' isn't allowed on MTV because there's two guys making out in a bathroom stall. They air an edited version on MTV2 and you can see that the guy's about to orgasm in the Fuse version."

Everyone stared at her for a moment. "How fascinating," everyone said, sarcastically.

"Yeah. They won't allow me on," Angel mumbled.

"Oh, quit being so negative, you guys!" Collins said, "It's gonna be fine."

* * *

**Rolling Stone**

**_Open Mind_**

Interscope band Subatomic Treehugger's first video from their first major album _No Secrets Here_, "(April Is) the Cruelest Month" was deemed "inappropriate" for air on MTV last week. The video features drummer Angel Dumott-Schunard, 18, in lingerie and kissing his boyfriend, Tom Collins, 29, with "sexual passion that some viewers of MTV may not be able to handle" according to a press release made by the station.

These statements have caused mass uproar with groups like PFLAG and GLAAD, who deemed the banning of the video as "discrimination against the GLBT community as well as discrimination against Miss Schunard and her identification as a woman and her boyfriend for being in love with her."

Roger Davis, 26, lead singer of the Treehuggers, left a statement with _Rolling Stone_ about the whole controversy. "It's MTV's decision," said Davis, "Bitching and moaning about it is going to get us nowhere. All we can do is press on... we support Angel with her identity as a woman and... no one can stop us."

LOGO, a channel directed at a gay audience, who, like MTV, is owned by Viacom, plays the video in heavy rotation on its music-driven program, The Click List.

Another station playing the video is Fuse, MTV's up-and-coming rival. The video is also in heavy rotation on the station and giving off great publicity for the up-and-coming band. **END**

* * *

Collins walked into his girl's cozy little apartment. "Angel?" he asked as he pulled the bill of his beanie. It was the day before Subatomic Treehugger's _No Secrets Here_ tour and he wanted one last night with Angel before they were thrown on a tour bus with Mark and Roger.

"Hey, Tommy!" Mimi said, walking into him for a hug. She parted, a sneaky grin on her face. "So... uhm... how do you feel about handcuffs?"

"E-excuse me?" Collins asked.

"Nothing!" Mimi said, her leg springing up for no apparent reason. "Looking for Angel?"

Collins was still trying to take in Mimi's question. "Huh? Oh yeah. Where is she?"

"She's somewhere in this place... I think she's cleaning. Psyched for the tour?"

"Yeah, I am, actually! You have to see some of the shows, Mimi! We got some good bands playing with us. Like... Billie Bob's Black Bird Bunch. Billie's this really nutty short girl. And that band cyberboi."

"Don't they spell their name weird?" Mimi asked.

"Yeah, c-y-b-e-r-b-o-i period. All lowercase. They're this emo-like band, but they're really cool."

"How long is this going to be?"

"About a month an a half for this tour. Then we're scheduled to do a certain summer tour."

"What tour?"

"Can you say Warped Tour?"

"Are you fucking serious! Warped Tour! Whose lead singer did you guys kill to get on Warped?"

"Well, you see, Roger had this old sledgehammer... what do you think we did, Mimi! We earned it!"

Mimi clapped. "Congrats."

"Now, seriously, where's Angel?"

"I think she's cleaning the shower in the bathroom."

"Thanks."

Collins walked to the bathroom and heard a loud grunt. He smirked as he stuck his head into the bathroom. He saw bare feet coming from the door of the shower. He leaned on the frame of the doorway, watching aqua blue toes wiggle to an unknown beat.

Angel groaned, pulling a long strand of hair from the drain. "_Mimi_! This is totally your hair!"

Collins tried to stifle a laugh.

Angel got up slowly. She turned her head. "Fuck! Collins! What are you doing here!"

"You didn't know this was minority _Three's Company_?" Collins joked.

Angel blinked several times. "_Three's _... oh! Right! Hah!" She walked closer to him, cringing. "But really, I'm a mess. I have soap scum in my hair!"

"But it was totally worth it. You grunting and doing all the motions were really sexy." Collins pulled Angel against him. He played with her jeans, which were clearly his, and clearly falling off of her body. "And don't worry about what you look like. I've seen you in basically everything."

She sighed, trying to pull her arms out of Collins' embrace to pick at some soap on her legs. "True, enough." She looked up at him. "Well, because you are in one of those moods, follow me to the bedroom."

Collins grinned like any wolf in a fairy tale. "Really?"

"Okay, so maybe I got your hopes up, but come on, it'll be good, I promise."

They walked to Angel's bedroom. Collins braced himself for the explosion of aqua, lime green, and fushia that adorned the walls like battle scars.

Angel led him to the bed, which was a tame purple. She ran to the closet and swung it open dramatically. She bend down on her knees and picked up a bright pink bag. She got up and dropped it in front of Collins. "Happy six months, baby!"

"Are you serious?" Collins asked, laughing. In all honesty, he shouldn't have been surprised at all by Angel's generosity. She loved giving. Anything. Collins grabbed a tissue paper-wrapped package from the bag.

Angel leaned on the bag, her hand under her chin and holding it up. She grinned as Collins pulled a pair of zebra-striped handcuffs in front of her face. "This is so typical of you."

Angel winked.

Collins peeked into the bag. "What else do you have? Hm.." he pulled out another tissue paper package. "Question, Angel, seeing as though you're the one with the lacy underwear in the relationship, why is there a pair in my hand?"

Angel gasped. "Oh shit! Gimme those!" Angel grabbed it from him. "Mimi! God!"

Collins laughed. He found one more package and opened it. "A box." He snapped the box open. "Chopsticks?"

"Yep!" Angel said, getting up, "We're going to get some hibachi! Let me get dressed and we'll get going."

Collins picked up the handcuffs, smiling. "So I get food and sex tonight? Alright!"

"Tom, please, put those down!"

* * *

Mark threw his clothes across his bed. He had decided to bring back his emo look. He thought Angel did a great job at reinventing him, but he just didn't have the energy to keep it. He folded some sweater-collared shirt sets. Everyone had some sort of anguish. Whether it was because your body didn't match your mind, your addictions ruined your life, or you just couldn't find yourself amongst the haves and the have nots. He was a have not. At least Roger was identified as "the frontman" and Angel was "the drag queen." He was nothing. He was just Mark.

He walked to his bathroom to comb his hair. He knew he had to stop living in the past, in the regret he built around himself. He was being the boring one and he couldn't do that. He looked at his reflection. No visual make-over could change that. He had to make-over his mind, if that made any sense.

He uncovered some toiletries and threw them on the bed. "Eh... all in good time..."

The phone rang. He leaned over and picked it up. "Hello?"

"Hey, Mark! It's Roger!"

"Hi, Rog!"

"Hey! Ape and I are goin' to the new hibachi place! You wanna come?"

"I'm ruining your date."

"So?"

"Well... I..."

"Mark, you're not going to spend the last night before our tour masturbating to those porn channels you can see through the static."

"I didn't plan on..."

"Get your pants on! I'm coming over!"

Mark sighed, hanging up.

* * *

Collins kissed Angel as he took his seat. "This is so exciting!"

"Have you ever done this?" Angel asked.

"Not really..."

"Are you serious? I've done something you didn't? That's a first."

Collins rolled his eyes. "Baby..."

"...It's not that I don't mind, it's just... okay. I was reading some forums today because I was bored and I really didn't want to clean the bathroom and I did and there was this whole thread about how I should go out with someone that was my age and, according to them 'pretty like me.'" She put up air quotes for emphasis. "But, Collins, I'm happy with you. I love you. I just..."

"Angel, do you honestly think everyone is going to approve of us?"

"No."

"So chill. We got tons of stuff against us. You're eighteen, I'm twenty-nine. You're a cross dresser, I'm a bisexual man. You're Puerto Rican, I'm black. It's just not supposed to work. But I love you as much as I did when I got you that dress at Hot Topic."

Angel blushed. "Thank you, Tom."

"Anytime, babydoll."

"But now I'm pissed we have to share everything with Mark and Roger! It's not fair!"

Collins laughed. "I know, I know, I'm sure we can find something to..."

"Hey, Collins! Hey, Angel!" Roger yelled from across the restaurant.

Angel and Collins turned to see Roger, April, and Mark. "Oh! Hey guys!"

"We didn't know you'd be here,"Roger said, putting his hand on Collins' shoulder as he ran over.

"Well, here we are!" Angel chirped, "You wanna sit with us?"

"Sure," Roger said. He told the waitress they'd sit with Angel and Collins and Mark and April walked to the table, ordering drinks.

"I claim next to Angel!" Mark yelled. He slammed next to Angel, his chair nearly tipping over.

"No fair!" Roger argued.

"Don't fight!" Angel begged.

"Collins laughed. "You're too cute sometimes..."

April kept quiet.

Angel took notice. "April, are you okay? You seem kinda down..."

April shrugged.

Angel looked at Mark for help. Mark shrugged as well. He looked at Roger. Roger was too busy reading the menu.

Angel pouted. How could Roger be so ignorant? Collins had such a habit of being up her ass whenever she went through moods. Perhaps Roger was just different.

Mark bit his lip. "Uhm, Rog, can we have a band meeting?"

Roger nodded. "Sure, yeah, okay. Let's go."

The band got up and went to the...

"Angel! Hello? Men's room!"

"Oh... right! Sorry!"

...bathroom.

They leaned against the tiled walls and began to talk.

"What the hell's going on?" Roger asked.

"We were going to ask you," Mark said, "April's not looking too hot."

"She's seemed very down the past few weeks..." Angel mumbled.

"She's just pissed we're going on tour," Roger explained.

"Are you sure about that?" Angel asked, trying to ignore a stare or two.

"Yes, I'm sure, Angel, she's not fucked up like y... like some people," Roger mumbled.

Angel rolled her eyes. "Oh please, Roger, she needs some help. Please. Talk to her. If she ends up doing something stupid, what are we supposed to do?"

"She doesn't even like Angel, for God's sake," Mark said, "Don't you talk to her?"

"Look, April has issues with Angel, I know, but I also know that she's okay. She'll be fine. This is none of your damn business," Roger mumbled, leaving.

Angel looked at Mark. "Like boyfriend, like girlfriend."

Mark nodded and caught the door for her. "Come on. Let's make the best of this."


	11. Sealed With a Kiss

**Rock n' Roll Life**

**By Donna**

**Chapter Eleven: Sealed With a Kiss (The Eyeliners)**

**Alternative Press**

_**Subatomic Treehuggers**_

**No Secrets Here**

**5/5**

_Tracklist_

1. Dramatic Intro

2. Girlboy Vs. Actual Reality

3. I'm Your Number Two

4. Drop Yer Shorts

5. But Sir, I'm Not Dead

6. My Cat Had a Fall

7. Relapse

8. My Life is a Musical (And You're My Maria)

9. Kiss Me Times Three

10. (April Is) the Cruelest Month

11. One More Sad Song

12. The Last Good Girl

Bands that have hype surrounding them usually make you question the quality. If people over-look the fact they are actual musicians, because of their visual or their stances on things, what's the point? But Subatomic Treehuggers proved themselves on this album, their second LP, that they can deliver.

Roger Davis' voice is a little rough around the edges, but his guitar playing is very well done. It easily wipes you of all doubts you've ever had about guitarist/singers. The bassline, played by Mark Cohen, is exceptional as well. "Drop Yer Shorts" has, by far, the best bass part I've heard in years.

And now for the more controversial member of the band, the newcomer Angel Dumott-Schunard. This girl is probably the biggest shock on the whole album; she can sing. Really well. She and Davis sing the chorus to "Kiss Me Three Times" in a ways that have been never thought possible. And her voice is not from hormones. It's her natural voice. She's still a little patchy on the drums, but seeing the circumstances she was under, she did okay and after being with the band more, she will definitely improve and become a threat to the rest of the music world.

NSH is able to mold humor, drama, and great storytelling in a package that is not too long (almost forty-five minutes even), not too complex, and can fit into the collection of anyone who enjoys a guitar and a song about a guy in a dress.**ALTend**

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"This is our bus!" Angel screamed, jumping on Roger's back to get a better look.

Roger nearly fell over. "Ow! You crazy bitch! Yes! This is our bus."

"Wow..."

Roger waddled to the side of the bus. "Look at the sexy black finish..."

Angel squirmed. "I can see myself!"

Roger waddled toward the door. "You're so lucky you weren't on our first tour. We used Collins' crap truck. It could only do so much..."

Angel giggled. She looked down and saw the top of Roger's head. "Oh! I'm sorry! I've been kinda on top of you..."

"It's not so bad," Roger said, "You weigh, like, nothing."

Angel unhooked her legs out . "Well, let's go in."

They opened the door and got inside. Roger pointed out the fridge, the chairs, and the bunks.

"Can two people fit in a... bunk..." Angel asked, embarrassed.

Roger laughed. "Probably. You're teeny."

Angel smiled. "Good."

Mark and Collins came in.

Roger and Angel turned their heads. "Hey, guys!" Angel added, "Look, Tom! Isn't this place sexy?"

"Yep, it is, Ang."

Angel started dancing around the bus, singing, from what everyone could determine, a new song from Shakira.

"...Uhm... Ang?" Mark asked.

"_Oh, baby, when you talk like that! You make a woman go_... yes?"

"Why are you singing Shakira?"

Angel continued to dance. "Because I like the song."

Roger laughed. "It's funny 'cause you don't have any tits or an ass."

Collins, Mark, and Angel all shot Roger a death-glare.

Roger didn't notice.

Angel sighed. "I'm going to go set up my bunk." She looked at everyone else. "I can still hear you from across the bus." She closed the canvas that separated the sleeping quarter from the rest of the bus and went to work.

Roger finally stopped laughing and looked up at his two friends. Collins shook his head.

"I don't get it," Roger said. He looked down at his feet and saw a writing tablet he stuffed in a bag of his and picked it up. He uncovered a ballpoint pen and wrote _Why're you guys all pissed? I was just teasing her._

Mark snatched the tablet out of his hand and wrote in reply, _That was mean, Roger! She's just trying to have fun and all you can do is point out flaws!_

Roger replied, _Collins? What do you think? _

Collins shrugged and whispered, "Well... that was rude, Rog. Angel's having a really rough time. Just... leave her be."

Angel poked her head out from the canvas. "Yeah, Rog, listen to Daddy." She shut the canvas and went back to work.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Why am I doing this again?" Roger asked.

"Because you look simply _scrumptious!_" Angel joked.

"I don't say 'scrumptious'..." Mark mumbled.

"Me, either," Angel said, fiddling with the glasses in her hand. She pushed her straightened bangs out of her face and said, "Mark, I think you fried my hair!"

"I didn't! I straightened it!"

"Whatever. This is why I wear wigs."

Roger began to groan in frustration. "My face is itchy!"

"If you ruin your foundation I'm going to kill you!" Angel growled.

Roger fell back on his chair. Count on Angel to come up with an awkward form of vengeance. They were going to put on their first show of the tour wearing other member's clothing. Mark dressed as Roger, his hair spiked into a weird pattern. He wore boy jeans and a tank top that he lacked the body to fill out. Angel put on glasses (she stole an old pair from Collins she shoved the lens out of) and wore her own jeans (granted, they weren't sparkly/had buttons and patches/had writing on them) and borrowed Mark's "Break Dance, Not Hearts" shirt. She wore a collared shirt under it to prove herself Mark-like.

Roger's was the best transition, and probably the most awkward. He wore an old thrift store dress with ugly flowers across it and a horrible color scheme of pinks, purples, reds, and mustard yellow. He wore over-the-top red lipstick and blush as well. The final details included fake eyelashes and a black wig.

Angel walked to the bathroom, laughing. "You look so bad..."

Roger's eyes narrowed. "Fuck you."

Angel laughed harder, closing the door.

"I'm sorry, Angie!"

"All is forgiven."

"Can I take off the dress now?"

"No way in hell."

Collins peeked inside. "It's almost time to go on... nice dress, Roger."

Roger gave a thumbs up.

"Please do us all a favor and cross your legs," Collins added.

"Who crosses their... right," Roger mumbled.

"C'mon, let's get out of here," Collins said, leading them out. Roger began spinning around, watching his dress open up. He almost fell over and screamed, "Jesus Christ! These heels are a bitch!" He then added, "I'm gonna take a leak."

"We got one _minute!_" Angel shrieked.

"Let them wait!" Roger disappeared for a painstakingly long three minutes. He appeared with some kind of edge to him everyone grew weary of.

.They found the stage and looked at each other. Angel straightened Roger's wig and they went on. The fans gasped. Roger smiled widely. He went to the mic and said, "What? You act like you've never seen a guy in a dress before."

Mark rolled his eyes. Angel groaned, slamming her head on a snare.

"Well, thank you for being here, guys!" Roger boomed, "I think you know who we are by now-Subatomic Treehuggers, for the parents dragged here-but we decided to dress up. Roger shifted his position, his dress falling off his shoulder. "Oops. Wardrobe malfunction." He flashed his nipple. "Sorry parents dragged here! But seriously. Here's the crew. I'm Roger. I'm dressed as Angel. She's our drummer. She's dressed as Mark. Mark's our bassist. He's over there, dressed as me." He pointed them out and said, "But let's go. You guys ready?"

Mark and Angel nodded. This was bad.

Roger screamed, "One, two, three, four!"

Angel slammed on the snare and Roger and Mark joined her. The fans threw up there hand and howled.

"Remember, kiddies!" Roger yelled, "There're no secrets here!"

Mark spun around, throwing his bass up like a torch. The fans began to sing, raising their hands and forming "Rock-On!" signs.

They barreled through "(April Is) the Cruelest Month" with so much excitement, Roger questioned if they could make it through the set. But he didn't even think of conservation as they went to an old song called "Generic Tiffany." Mark and Roger began to spin, their cords nearly getting tangled. By their last song, "Drop Yer Shorts" Roger, who Angel and Mark were well aware had some kind of drug in his system, looked at Angel and crashed into her drumset. Angel screamed, falling backwards and crashing into the back of the stage. Mark gasped. "Oh shit... Angel!" He saw Roger raise his head from the rubble, a big, dumb grin on his face. "Thank you, motherfuckers!" he cried, "You rock!"

Mark put his bass down and helped Angel up. "What the..."

Angel rubbed her backside and groaned into the mic, "I feel like I just got fucked..."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roger, Mark, and Angel walked to the crowd, dressed, and hopefully recovered from the stage incident. Mark kept asking Angel if she was okay. She would wave her arm and say, "Yeah, yeah... I'm good. S'not like I haven't felt this before."

Mark laughed, hitting her. "You're so bad..."

Roger met with some girls. They screamed in high-pitched voices, "You're so hot!"

One of them added, "We made a community for your hotness. It's on el-jay. It's called..." she lifted her hoodie and exposed a black tank top that said, "realroghos."

"Real Rog Hoes?" Roger read, "Awwh!"

"Can we get a picture with you?" the other asked.

Roger nodded. "Sure! Okay." He stood with them, a random person taking one of the girl's camera and snapping a picture of him. The girls grabbed him greedily, almost fighting with each other. Roger gulped. "Uhm... you..."

They slowly let go of him. "Oh. Sorry."

After they finally left, Roger found Mark. "Hey."

"You're not Kurt Cobain. Stop trying to kill our drummer," Mark snapped.

"Markie, it was just a _stunt_... come on..."

Mark inched away before Roger almost stumbled on him. "You smell like J.D."

"Kinda 'cause I drank some."

"You're disgusting."

Roger smiled. A girl went up to Mark and asked him to sign her pants. He bent down and signed right above her kneecap. The girl gasped, and whispered, "Thank you so much, Mr. Cohen!"

"Call me Mark, sweetie," Mark told the girl, giving her a hug.

The girl curled up against him for a split second. Mark looked at her. "Are you crying?"

"I'm s-sorry!"

"It's okay!"

He gave her one more hug for the road and she left, waving. "Bye, Mr. Cohen!"

Roger blinked. "Did I just get blown off?"

"Yeah. Why don't you go back to Jack or something? He loves you."

Right on cue they saw a huge guy with a Mohawk walk over to Angel, who was talking to some other fans.

"Aw, fuck! Angie!" Roger yelled.

Angel looked at the man. She pulled her shirt down a little and said, in a calm voice, "Can I help you, sir?"

"Are you okay!" he asked.

"Huh? Oh! Yeah! I'm fine!"

"It looked like it hurt! Uhm... I'm a big fan. You're probably one of the best drummers I've ever seen. Thanks for making us trans look good."

Angel gasped. "O-oh! Uhm... you're welcome!"

"Name's Sean. Used to be Selene. You're amazing. I know you really don't want to box yourself as 'trans' but anyone who doesn't go by the whole 'gender role' is good in my..._ our _book. Thank you, Miss Angel."

"Hey, anytime! I'm nothing without you, you know?"

Sean smiled. "Exactly. If anyone ever gives you shit, just punch 'em out. Don't take no shit from nobody."

Angel shook her head. "I'm a lover, not a fighter."

"I used to say that... but a smile can hold so many lies, you know?"

Angel nodded. "Yeah... guess you're right."


	12. Black Mamba

**Disclaimer:** I don't own RENT, The Academy Is..., Fuse, From First to Last, Sonny Moore, Pete Wentz, Myspace, Warped Tour, Hot Topic, AFI, David Bowie, and such.

**Rock n' Roll Life**

**By Donna**

**Chapter Twelve: Black Mamba, The Academy Is...**

_You're watching Warped Wednesday on FUSE, where anything and everything is about VANS WARPED TOUR!_

_If you want to get in on our WARPED CHAT, text FUSEM with the subject CHAT. Texts cost fifty cents to send. Please no curse words or phone numbers!_

**_fftl is awesome!-sonny is so hawt-ew fftl sux!-Pete Wentz is a ho!-Who here likes SAT (Subatomic Treehuggers)-ADD ME ON MYSPACE! __I LOVE SAT! ROGER N MARK R SO HOTT!-angel from sat is a fag -Jill-ur a fag jill plz-add me on myspace!_****_ PLZ AIR! I LOVE FUSE!-Jillz a maaaan! Lolz _**

Warped Tour was a different experience. When the Treehuggers ended their headline tour, they got to spend more time on the Warped grounds and encounter many bands of different genres and different backgrounds. Granted, each member of the Treehuggers were very different, so certain people got along with members a certain way. Roger clicked with the older punk bands and went drinking with them. Mark went along with the Fueled By Ramen/"emo scenesters" and Angel... she was just entertaining to watch as she interacted with everyone and anyone. Mark and Roger followed her like older brothers following their sister on a first date. She ran up to anyone she saw, most of which, her idols, and tried to befriend them. And most, if not all, made friends back. Everyone took a liking to the rather quicky cross dresser and her love for making the playlist at Hot Topic full of AFI, David Bowie, and new wave. There were still several bands from rather slow areas of the US that didn't even know people like her existed in music, but she was able to warm their hearts a little (or Roger and Mark made them).

One of Roger's friends was a man named Sprite. He became Roger's smoking buddy. Sprite was the lead singer of an old punk band named No Pulse, and had been rocking out since the eighties. Roger decided to hang off every word he said. It was evident he was "in the know" to say the least.

"So... how old are you, Roggy?" Sprite asked, pushing his thinning blue hair to one side.

"Just turned twenty-seven."

"Ah... so you're an old newbie," Sprite said, laughing. His laugh was rough against Roger's ears and his skin, creased and bent in more than a sheet just removed from the dryer, folded to form a smile. Years of hard rock and liquor had seemed to have finally gotten to him.

"I guess you can say that."

"How old's your drummer... ten?"

"She's eighteen."

"So she's a baby."

"Yep. Pretty much."

"How long have you known her?"

"A good few months."

Another rough laugh. "She'll never make it."

"What?"

"She's not meant for the rock n' roll life."

"Of course she is! She's been running on punk and duct tape since the day she was born."

"Does she even go to shows?"

"Hey, she's right there! Go ask her."

"I will. 'Ey, Angel! Get your skinny ass over here!"

Angel looked up from her talk with another drummer and ran over. Her hair was dyed black with purple streaks and flat-ironed. There was a funny story behind that... since _No Secrets Here _came out, magazines wanted to cover the band and their rather successful album. But many magazines requested Angel would be dressed as a boy for the interviews. Roger quickly made sure that any magazines that requested that were turned down and to show a strange form of defiance, Angel began to grow out her hair more than usual. Her sense of style was still as wacky as ever. She wore a tie, collared shirt, and a tank top with a rabbit patch she stitched on. She also wore a stolen pair of Roger's plaid pants. "Yeah?" she asked, putting her hands on her hips.

"You know who I am, right?" Sprite asked, pushing himself off the bus he was leaning on. He was already taller than Roger and Angel, but he felt the need to intimidate her even more.

"Of course," Angel said, coolly, "You're Sprite Bailey from No Pulse. I have a... seven inch?... of yours and your E.P.s and your L.P.s on CD."

"Seven inch, eh?" Sprite asked, grinning, "Those are hard to find."

"Yeah. I got it a little while ago. It was a bitch to get."

Sprite nodded. "Do you want a cigarette or something?"

Angel shook her head. "I don't smoke."

"Are you straight-edge or..."

"I just don't care for it. I'm not edge. I do drink a little."

"Uh-huh. Where'd you get your little outfit?"

Roger groaned. "Stop playing twenty questions with my drummer!"

"It's okay, Roger, I don't mind," Angel said. "I got the shirt on the clearance rack at Sears, I made the tank top, and the pants are from Roger's closet. The shoes... I really can't tell you. I use them for dancing."

"What kind of dancing?"

"Slamdancing. I like to do some hardcore shit."

Roger's eyes bulged. "Wait... _what!_"

"You didn't know I danced, Roger?" Angel asked.

"Uh... no?" Roger mumbled.

"Oh! I used to go to shows a lot during high school."

Sprite came into the conversation again. "But here's the real question. Are you dressed as a girl doing it?"

"Yeah!" Angel exclaimed, "Of course! I have a pretty pink bandanna and everything!"

Sprite roared with laughter. "Nice!" He slapped her back, a loud echoing noise hitting everyone's ears. "I'm sorry about what I said, Roger! She _does _have what it takes! I'm sorry I ever doubted you, girly!"

Angel smiled. "You boys always seem to do that."

Sprite bent down to her level. "My dearest Angel, as a certified tattoo and piercing artist, I would love to do anything you'd like to yourself. Seriously. You name it, I'll do it."

Angel smirked. "Really?"

"Yep! I got my stuff in my bus if you want to see some past stuff I did..."

"Can you pierce my lip?"

Roger's jaw dropped. "_What!_"

"Sure! Of done tons of those! I have a stud with your name on it... come to my bus. We'll do it right now, before either of us have to go on."

Roger watched them walk to Sprite's bus. "Holy shit!" he yelled. He ran to find Mark. Mark was innocently talking to some people Roger couldn't identify. He tapped Mark's shoulder, which was more like a punch. Mark looked up at him, his eyes narrowing. "_What's _wrong, Roger?"

"Angie, our little _Angie _is getting a lip ring!"

"Oh. That's cool."

"But! Sprite from No Pulse is doing it!"

Mark gasped. "Wow! D'ya think he'll do my nose?"

Roger stared at him for a moment. "What the fuck is wrong with everyone!"

"Roger, come on. She's the punker. You know that. She may act like she's not that punk, but she's probably one of the most punk kids I've ever seen. She can relate to so many things in those bands, unlike, like, more than half the kids in the world. So her poking holes in her lip is nothing that should be strange or 'bad' to you... don't tell me you lost your edge."

"Of course not!"

"So relax, dude. Angel's a big girl. I'm sure she'll look good with a lipring."

Roger nodded. "I guess..."

Mark looked back at the group of friends he recently made. "Look, Roger, just join the conversation or something. We're debating about guitar brands..."

After a good half hour talking about guitars, girls, and gun belt buckles, Roger felt someone tap his shoulder. He turned his head.

"Hey, Roger," Angel said calmly, Sprite coming from behind her, laughing. "She didn't even flinch!" he exclaimed, "Doesn't it look good?"

"Lemme see!" Mark said, turning around. He grabbed Angel and pulled her close, inspecting the silver stud on the side of her lip. "I like it!"

Angel's eyes lit up. "You do?"

"Yeah! Where's Collins? He has to see this..."

"He's at the merch thing," Angel mumbled, twirling a lock of her hair, "I hope he doesn't kill me..."

"Not for nothin', but it's your body, girly," Sprite said, "You can do whatever you want to yourself. At least, I think so. S'why I don't beat up emo kids." He punched Mark's shoulder. Mark flinched. "'Sides," Sprite added, "if you really don't like it, it can close up."

Angel nodded. "I wouldn't do that, though. I like it."

Collins came over, telling them that they had to perform in an hour. He looked at Angel and said, "Hey... what?" He bent down and stared at the stud. "...Oh. Nice!" He laughed and kissed her cheek. "As if you don't have enough holes in your ears..." he sighed, pushing her left earlobe, which currently housed five hoops.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roger took a gulp of his beer. "Are you _ready_ yet, Angie?"

"Do you have to be buzzed to preform?" Mark asked.

Roger's eyes narrowed. "Shut the fuck up, Cohen."

Mark groaned. "No. I'm not. You fucking... asshole! You're fucking drunk! It's not cute anymore!"

Roger pointed his bottle at Mark. "I should throw this at you..."

"Can you please stop?" Angel begged, pulling Roger back. "Relax! We have a show! The kids are depending on us!"

Roger shoved her and began to move to the stage.

Angel and Mark caught up to him. "Roger! Calm down!" Mark pleaded. Angel held his wrist like a mother begging a child to eat their vegetables.

Roger swung around. Will you guys let go?" He threw his arms up and attempted to punch them, bottle at hand. He finally dropped it at Angel's feet and she slipped and fell, landing against a garbage can. Mark tried to help her up, but she ignored him and got in Roger's face. "This is the second time you've pushed me down. Second. You fucking jackass. If I didn't care about this band... if I didn't care about the fans, I would leave right now. You're lucky you have a bunch of people who _care_ about you and this band, Roger, because you sure as hell don't." She looked at Mark and they walked to the stage. Roger stared for a moment at them. He looked at the garbage can and kicked it to the ground. The girl was right.

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After the set, Angel left without a word. Roger left for the bus. Mark tried to figure out where Angel went. She didn't go to the bus. She had to be at someone's set. He walked to the timetable display at the front of the grounds. He smirked. AFI just started. If she wasn't there, she had to have evaporated. Mark never forgot the time he went to her place and saw her and Mimi dancing around to AFI. She was so embarrassed, but admitted to them being one of her favorite bands. "Why did you tell us that from the beginning?" Mark asked. She shrugged and said, "I didn't want to come off too weird." Which, now, made sense. He found the stage and tried to get through the sea of people. There was such a wide range of people, from the old fashioned punks, to the poppier kids. "Fuck... I'm never gonna find her," he groaned. He looked at a pit the erupted in front of him. A person hit him as they danced. They wore a tiny Armor for Sleep hoodie with wings on the back and the hood up and jeans with holes that were evidently from falling and getting dirty. They wore a pink bandanna across their face, concealing their identity.

The person punched a guy much bigger than them and got on their hands and kicked another in the back. Mark gulped. "Oh no! He's gonna get his ass kicked!" The guy that got hit in the back laughed, instead of what Mark feared. Mark looked back at the smaller one. They got up, and the hood fell. Mark yelled, "Angel!"

Angel looked over. "Mark!" She shoved toward him, pulling down her bandana and grinning. She wore a Band-Aid over her piercing, but nothing hid the fact it was her now.

Mark yelled over the music, "I thought I'd find you here!"

Angel nodded, pulling at his arm. "I love this song."

Mark listened, looking up at the lead singer and the guitarist. They were currently singing in each other's faces in a very intimate way that he knew Roger and he could never do. Angel leaned on him, smiling widely as she sang with them. After the set (and the lead singer stage diving into the crowd), Angel had clearly recovered from when Roger accosted her.

"Oh my God..." she breathed, "I've seen those guys live about three times, and they're just as amazing as the first time..."

"You're such a fangirl," Mark said, smiling.

Angel nodded. "Don't you have a band that's the _best ever_ and you'll do whatever you can for them?"

"Uhm, I guess..."

"You don't, do you?"

"No, I really don't."

"Oh my God! How do you live?"

Mark laughed. It was funny how two people lived off music in different ways. "I live a very guilty life," he said.

"I figured as much," Angel mumbled. She looked at him, trying to figure him out just looking at his eyes. "I bet ya listen to all those critic loved indie bands and shit. Death Cab for Cutie, The Academy Is..."

"Hey, hey! I love The Academy Is..."

"...and because you're so emo, I'm sure you love Taking Back Sunday."

"They're my favorite band!" Mark said, pointing to the shirt underneath his hoodie.

"I knew it! I'm good at these things."

"You slamdanced really good," Mark added.

Angel nodded. "It's really fun. You can let out a lot of aggression and shit."

"I guess. Oh! Look! Fans!" Mark pointed to a group of people in Subatomic gear, cheering. Angel gave them a rock-on sign. "I love you!" she yelled.

Mark chuckled. "You really love this stuff, don't you?"

"Yeah! I live for it."

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Roger groaned, rolling in his bunk.

"Mark called," Collins said, "Angel went to see AFI. But I doubt AFI will be able to make her very happy to see you. What the hell is with you and drinking before a show? It doesn't help you."

Roger grunted, throwing his pillow over his head. "Shut up! My head hurts!"

"I wonder why. Alcohol's a drug, yanno."

"Then we're all addicts."

"At least I don't shove needles in my skin."

"Will you shut the fuck _up_, Collins?"

Angel and Mark walked in. "I'm gonna take a shower," Angel announced.

"Ew!" Mark gasped, "In the group shower? Everyone's in there and..."

"I know. I haven't taken one in five days. I need it, Mark." She pulled out a bathing suit and got dressed in her bunk. She reappeared in a black and white skull adorned bikini and Hello Kitty sandals. She grabbed a bottle of shampoo and walked up to Roger, screaming in his ear. Roger groaned as she left and made her way to the showers.

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I'm sorry for the delay. This one was a bitch to upload. The next chapter is currently being betaed and will be posted sooner.


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